Boat update: keeping it all in perspective

It’s been over a week since Libby was rammed by a 30 foot Norstar. I’ve been waiting to update this blog when I had definitive news, but I do not. Frustrating? Yes. I have retained an attorney to help me.

I know that people are wondering what the heck is going on with this, but I don’t know what is going to happen. The only thing I can do now is speculate, prepare, and plan for the scenarios already covered in my previous post. Below, though, is my take on perspective.

Keeping it all in perspective

Libby is my home. My home was rammed three times, causing thousands of dollars worth of damage, structural and cosmetic. I was not aboard, nor was my dog, Riley. If we had been, it’s likely we could’ve been injured badly. To blow such a hole into a fiberglass vessel requires a great deal of force, and since I have a witness to the ramming, I know it happened three times. It was good that there were no living beings aboard the boat at the time of the ramming.

It could’ve been worse, and thankfully it wasn’t. The situation, having a hole in my home, has been stressful, maddening, and has saddened me. Having a hole in my home has caused me to lose sleep, productivity, and has left me feeling lost. There are some people who fully understand just how disconcerting this situation has been. Since I live on my boat, and my boat is my home, what happened to my vessel is comparable to a car slamming into the wall of a house, leaving a massive hole in a bedroom. A home was violated, wrecked. It would be an ordeal to get it fixed, and frustrating to have to go home to a house with a giant hole in it.

Having said that, I know that damage is fixable. I know that a hole in a home is not as bad as losing one of my limbs, losing a friend or family member to a natural or unnatural disaster or tragedy, or being diagnosed with a debilitating or terminal illness. Worse things are out there, much, much worse. I never have nor will compare the loss of my home to the loss of a child, parent, friend.

I’m a lover of analogies, and I’ve likened my situation to a boulder being dropped in my path. Boulders can be worked around or climbed over, they’re not the end of the world. Having my boat rammed, possibly losing my home, will not change who I am. Yes, it’s frustrating, maddening, and has displaced me. But once I figure out how to get around the obstacle in my path, I’ll continue along my way. Bigger obstacles are likely waiting for me to figure out as well, and it’s too early to tell how the size of this rock compares to others.

Losing a family member prematurely, regardless of the how, isn’t a boulder, it’s an ever expanding crater. It’s a hole, it’s life changing, and it takes years to build a bridge over it, and no one is capable of moving past it. The crater is always there, the bridge continually being built, minute by minute, as the aggrieved tries to make their way through life dealing with tremendous loss.

And I’ve always known that damage to my home doesn’t compare to human loss. I’ve always kept my situation in perspective. I’ve never tried to undervalue the sufferings or struggles of other people. Ask any of the theater victims in Aurora, Colorado which they’d rather, and they’d gladly trade a hole in their home to have their heart made whole again, by having their loved ones return to them.

My situation is problematic, and requires my immediate attention, constant perseverance, and support from friends, family, and the incredible online sailing community. I’m going to be okay, that was never a question. But I still must deal with my situation urgently.