A ThanksgivingStory

“A Dream Restored”

A lifelong dream (or at least 10 years’ worth) finally realized. We went to visit the ancestral home of my great, great grandparents in Ireland. Their daughter, my great aunt Mary, lived with us for the last few years of her life. She tried in vain to relay their story, but I lacked interest. So, I only remembered bits and pieces of where they probably lived and worked. I decided if I could just get near, that would be enough. They left to come to America from the port of Galway. That I knew. My great, great grandfather designed and repaired ships somewhere in Cork. My guess is that the shipyard was somewhere along the Cork Marina.

We chose to cruise as a way of travelling because David loves sailing (anywhere), and I felt their story would be best understood from the vantage point of a boat. I did my research and discovered that the seas on the western side of the island where Galway and Cork are located are always rough. Some days are worse than others except for two weeks in August. In our passenger information it strongly stated the need to bring seasick medicine.

When we arrived at the port in Southampton, England for our cruise, the guests deboarding were complaining about the storm they encountered and the very rough water. I had packed Dramamine, but also Scopolamine. A patch I used to prevent seasickness when I sailed with David on his own sailboat when we were first married. I remembered how well it worked. As soon as I heard the stories of the previous guest, I pulled out a patch and stuck it behind my ear for it required at least 4 hours to be effective. Now, come hell or high water, I was ready for anything the ocean would throw at me.

We set sail that evening around five pm and our adventure began. After a pleasant dinner and afterwards enjoying a Ukrainian string quartet in the Grand Lounge, we returned to our rooms. Ready to finish unpacking and call it a night.

Just before 8 pm, a strong fear of paranoia overwhelmed me. As if a hand had gripped my brain and interrupted my thinking. I experienced an overpowering desire to pack my suitcases. Dave said I kept referring to us as being at home and that we needed to pack our bags quickly for the boat. It happened so suddenly he did not know what to do. So, he played along hoping to make some sense of it all.

There was a full mirror on the wall facing the closet mirror. It gave the illusion of a door leading into another room. In my new confused state, I was looking for a second room.

“Where is it?” I demanded. He told me that he had sealed up the room with drywall because the room was way too big for us, and then he painted it.

“Where did you get the drywall? The perfectly matching paint?”

“I brought it in my suitcase.”

This made me stop and think. No way did his suitcase have the capacity to carry drywall plus matching paint, but I was not easily deterred.

“They let you do that?”

“Yes, the Captain of the ship told me what a great job I did.”

Now I knew something wasn’t right, but the fear kept my frozen mind in place. Dave urged me to take off the scopolamine patch for that seemed to be the source of my delusions.

“No, I don’t want to get seasick.”

Reluctantly, I removed the patch, and within a few hours my normal brain was released from its prison of paranoia. I looked up scopolamine on my phone and discovered there is a very small chance of this side effect among elderly people. However, those who drink alcohol while using the patch increase its likelihood. I was on my second glass of wine.

The next morning, I woke up tired and shaken. I was afraid of going ashore for fear of a relapse. I felt sorry for myself. After years of planning, I am going to miss the port of Cork because of a seasick drug. How unfair. After much self-pity, I realized I had much for which to be grateful and decided to thank God for this travel opportunity and for what awaited us.

I stepped out onto our veranda. It was a beautiful, sunny day. No sign of a newly predicted storm and very calm waters. We faced the port of Cork directly, but to the left side was what looked like a shipyard. I checked my phone and sure enough one of Cork’s six shipyard’s (web page) was right in front of us. And they were hiring ship builders. If I had gone ashore, I would have missed the great view. This fell into my category of “close enough.” 1. Great Grandfather’s Cork shipyard off “to do” list.

For the rest of the trip, we circled the perimeter of the island with only beautiful sunny days and calm water. Very unheard of in Ireland. The next day we visited Galway, and it was everything Irish I expected. Wonderful stories by our Irish tour guides aboard the bus and a trip to a sheep farm where we were served Old Irish Tea and freshly baked scones with butter and rhubarb. Very good. Galway, the port city where my grandparents had left to sail to America, was exactly what I had expected. My trust in the trip was restored.

I learned that speaking thankfulness is the language of heaven. A superpower that rebuilds hope and makes any situation compete.

“His ways and plans, His very thoughts, are so much higher than mine…with His purposes accomplished.” *

So, on this national holiday of Thanksgiving, consider surrendering your disappointments to God, voice your thankfulness, and let Him construct a blessing into your life. As Dave had his drywall, God has His creative plans to build hope and restore your purposes.

For your plans, your thoughts and your ways, Lord, this storyteller says thank you.

Happy Thanksgiving to you from Kathy and Dave Benedetto, storyteller and editor