Around about now, I need to give myself a good shake and remember that nothing lasts forever. Years ago, I was stuck in a tiny airport in Indonesia. Every hour, our flight got delayed another hour. About eight hours in, I was starting to go a little Shining. A woman I was travelling with put a hand on my arm and said, "Everything ends. No matter how boring, or awful, it all stops eventually."
And she was right. Three hours later, we finally flew out of there. Just like we finally sailed out of Cartagena. And we finally sailed out of Colon.
|I'm almost done.|
|No, really. Almost done.|
And I remember how lucky I am to be doing this at all. As I write this, I am watching the kids ride their scooters around the local park. As they race past, they shriek, "Mom! Look at me, Mom!" It isn't raining at the moment. I could be sitting in a grey cubicle somewhere, but I'm not. And the rigger should be working on that forestay this afternoon.
Mr Tennessee Guitar can save his sad songs for somebody else today. Because we are going to get out of here. Soon.