Can you believe it? 45 bottles of wine, 2 bottles of fine Scotch and 2 LCB gift cards. I don’t think that Ron was concerned about storage when he expressed his wish for wine rather than flowers. Yes, some of the wine has been enjoyed and some is stowed. The funny thing is that it is stowed in Ron’s drawers with his drawers padding the bottles. Living on the boat one has to ensure enough padding to prevent breakage. While I was putting it away and found myself chuckling and saying aloud “You asked for this Harris.”
All I can say to those of you who gifted wine in the name of Ron, you have fine taste. Some labels I have never seen so it is truly a delightful experiment to uncork (or unscrew) a bottle. The Scotch is tasting might fine too.
Dare I say that Ron had a good idea? OK, he had a good idea. I get to toast him with every bottle. Thank you, Husband.
I came to realize that the wine is not about drinking copious amounts to drown my sorrow. The wine is about me sharing a bottle with other people and perhaps in particular people that I meet on my new journey in life. I can make an offering of wine and invite people into my space or be invited and give the gift of wine and stories.
This thought came about when I was in Canoe Cove. I met a couple on their sailboat. They were having some work done and more specifically they had roller furling installed to the two head sails. He said, “ I am getting tired of hanking on the sails and hauling them up to sail.” “I am getting tired of bagging them when we are done sailing for the day.” Wally was his name. He then stated he was eighty-six years old. His wife was of like age. My jaw hit the deck. He didn’t look a day over seventy. I cried and he didn’t understand at first. I went on to briefly explain my story and how he and his wife are who Ron and I wanted to be... sailing together beyond the years.
The next day Wally and Margaret were leaving for Cortez Island. That evening I presented them with a bottle of wine in honour of Ron and in honour of their inspiration to all who come to know them. “Fair winds” I said “and smooth sailing to Cortez.”