And the waves will take him in again.

[rivka]

I always knew he wouldn't stay.

When Ben first sailed into Baltimore Harbor, I thought he'd be here for a week or two. He was full of plans to sail up the Saint Lawrence Seaway into the Great Lakes, and from there to work his way over to the Mississippi. He wanted to sail across the Atlantic to Europe. What he didn't want to do was live on land. Ever. I never imagined that his visit to Baltimore would stretch into something over two years.

He stayed in marinas over the winter, hooked up to electric power to run the lights and the ceramic heaters. In the summer, he anchored out in the harbor and ran his computer off the solar cells above the cockpit. I'd stand on the end of the pier and he'd come over the broad expanse of water to collect me in the dinghy. I'd climb down into the warm dark cave of the aft cabin and be rocked in the arms of the waves.

We explored the restaurants of Baltimore together, both of us firm believers in the art and sensuality of food. We saw the tropical fish at the aquarium and the mosaics at the Baltimore Museum of Art together. We drove up to a converted monastery in the mountains and curled up together on an ancient leather couch beside the fireplace. He came home with me for Thanksgiving and charmed my entire family.

I always knew he wouldn't stay. Our song was about leaving: "I'm a rover and I'm bound to sail away. I'm a rover - will you love me anyway?"

It's not in my nature to go to sea. It's not in his nature to live on land. The moment when we first joined hands contained within itself the moment when I stood on the pier this morning, looking down at the Ulysses and raising my hand in farewell.

My name is Calypso and I have lived alone
I live on an island and I waken to the dawn
A long time ago I watched him struggle with the sea
I knew that he was drowning and I brought him into me
Now today, come morning light
He sails away after one last night
I let him go.

My name is Calypso, my garden overflows
Thick and wild and hidden is the sweetness there that grows
My hair it blows long as I sing into the wind
I tell of nights where I could taste the salt on his skin
Salt of the waves and of tears
And though he pulled away I kept him here for years
Now I let him go

My name is Calypso, I have let him go
In the dawn he sails away to be gone forever more
And the waves will take him in again
But he'll know their ways now
I will stand upon the shore
With a clean heart and my song in the wind
The sand will sting my feet and the sky will burn
It's a lonely time ahead -- I do not ask him to return
I let him go
I let him go

-Suzanne Vega

Comments

[therealjae.livejournal.com]

*sniff* *wiping away a tear* *long hug*

-J

[rivka.livejournal.com]

Yeah. I didn't cry this morning, but I'm close to crying now.

*hug gratefully returned*

Tears

[kitsap_charles]

Hugs all 'round, my dear, as tears come to my eyes unbidden to honor the two of you, together though parted.

Ben it was who came to me on Sunday, silent tears of my own glistening on my cheeks, to ask of my well-being and to offer his support. I miss him, and all the more for knowing he has set sail.

Hug offered

[runnerwolf.livejournal.com]

I know we don't know each other, but having felt a degree of that, and knowing I have it to look forward to again...

{hug offered}

[geekchick]

I'm glad I have a door I can push closed here so that my coworkers don't see me tearing up. *sniffle*

*hug*

[xiphias.livejournal.com]

Thank you for this moment of beauty.

[mactavish.livejournal.com]

*hug*

[wiredferret.livejournal.com]

How beautiful, to be able to love and let go.

There's a Marge Piercy poem about that, which I can't find just at this moment.

[rivka.livejournal.com]

How beautiful, to be able to love and let go.

Uh. I'm sure it would be. Let me get back to you about whether or not I actually can.

[mittelbar.livejournal.com]

Don't make me laugh. It sounds weird when I'm sniffling.

[rmjwell.livejournal.com]

FWIW I don't think it's a case of "loving and letting go" as much as it is "love crafted from the real." The reality is as you said: his leavetaking was a part of your relationship from the start. It sounds like you chose to embrace that and use that as a part of the love you two share, rather than invest energy in denying its existence.

I don't know about anyone else, but I read this as a very joyful post.

[xiphias.livejournal.com]

"Joyful" and "sad" aren't mutually exclusive. This was proof.

[wiredferret.livejournal.com]

Well, at any rate I'm impressed that you didn't
1) Leap into the bay or sound or whatever you have there.
2) Weep all down him.
3) Not ask him to be other than he is.

[rivka.livejournal.com]

Well, at any rate I'm impressed that you didn't
1) Leap into the bay or sound or whatever you have there.
2) Weep all down him.
3) Not ask him to be other than he is.

Today, I'm reconsidering. Except for the part about leaping into the harbor. It's horribly polluted, especially near shore, and it doesn't smell very good.

No words

[tendyl.livejournal.com]

I've no words just an offer of a hug.

[kightp.livejournal.com]

The song is lovely, but your own words are lovelier.

*hugs*

[patgreene.livejournal.com]

**hugs**
I can't find adequate words for what I'm feeling right now, rivka. You are an amazing person, you know that?

[wcg.livejournal.com]

Oh my love...

I knew it would be poignant before I read it, but even so... this is beautiful, and wrenching.

[(Anonymous)]

Wow. It must be especially hard to send your love off to an adventure that he's happy about, and be happy and sad at the same time.

Don't I remember the novelist heroine talking about this kind of situation in the first chapter of Spider Robinson's Starseed ?

"O my beloved, how can you want to go where I cannot follow?"


Louise

[rivka.livejournal.com]

Louise, hi. I was so glad to meet you this weekend.

Wow. It must be especially hard to send your love off to an adventure that he's happy about, and be happy and sad at the same time.

Yes. Because if he didn't want to do this, he wouldn't be the person I fell in love with. This is something he's really yearning for, however much he'll miss me. It will be good for him - I see that as well as he does.

Yeesh. It's not like we'll never see each other again. I have to remind myself of that.

"O my beloved, how can you want to go where I cannot follow?"

I understand why. And he understands why I don't wish I were going along. I think that's part of what makes this feel tragic in the Greek sense - it's a sad thing that arises from our natures, not from something random or external.

(I promised myself one day of being melodramatic about this, and it's not over yet, so I remind myself firmly that I don't need to feel bad about doing so. I'll restrain the urge to apologize.)

[lcohen]

oh--take the time you need to say what you need to say in the way that you need to say it. thank you for sharing this with us. *hug* if you're not feeling over*hugged*

[futabachan.livejournal.com]

*hug*

That's what scares me about attempting a thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail next year -- the thought of having to go away and leave Amanda for six months. (Modulo her coming to meet me for a weekend in a trail town somewhere, that is.) In many ways, I really envy Ben his ability to pick up and go cruising like that -- that is, after all, part of why I'm building the Gadfly (http://www.crumblingempire.com/insolent) -- but at the same time, I've been trying, with little success, to create a stable base to my life, and picking up and leaving the ones I love is a big hardship.

On the gripping hand, the Gadfly will be big enough when she's finished that I can take Amanda along in comfort. And a hypothetical child, too.

Anyway, all of that is a very roundabout way of saying that I feel for both of you. And I have to believe, however hard a case of wanderlust Ben has, that this has to be hard for him, too.

[quasigeostrophy.livejournal.com]

attempting a thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail next year

Go you! Someone from Indy did that this past summer. The newspaper here had irregular reports of her progress.

[redbird]

Someone I know did this just this past summer. She took a few breaks from the trail--apparently it counts as a through-hike if you go back to where you left the trail, even if you came back to NY long enough to see a play and sleep in your own bed.

[micheinnz.livejournal.com]

Aw, that's beautiful. *hugs*

[kalmn.livejournal.com]

oh, sweetie. i'm sorry you're hurting.

[hug]

[quasigeostrophy.livejournal.com]

*HUG*

[tsjafo.livejournal.com]

*hugs* Too many words. Just *hugs*

[diony.livejournal.com]

Sympathy. It sounds very, very hard.

[elisem.livejournal.com]

[tiny lioness statue, with one paw up, waving and witnessing. and sending you hello, and recognition of what you speak.]

[ex-helygen254.livejournal.com]

*hugs*

[dandelion-diva.livejournal.com]

That was beautiful. I'm sorry you had to write it, though. Thank you for sharing it.

*HUG*

Gesi

[fourgates.livejournal.com]

I don't usually experience denial in the face of great loss, but I'm having trouble computing this one. Ugh.
Jeff

[cattitude.livejournal.com]

*hug*

And take care of yourself/get people to take care of you for a few days. Calypso did not come to a good end.

[rivka.livejournal.com]

And take care of yourself/get people to take care of you for a few days.

I'm feeling kind of fragile today, indeed. It's coming out in weird ways. Probably that's a subject for another post.

Calypso did not come to a good end.

Hrm. I didn't know that. It's been years since I read the Odyssey, and I guess some salient details have slipped out of memory.