The ferry ride of life...of love. (standard:non fiction, 1255 words)
Author: Cyrano	Added: Aug 07 2008	Views/Reads: 3864/2151	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
I was never told about love as a kid...I never heard the words 'I love you'. I heard about beer and bread and hard times...

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property, or land, or great works of art. I have heard it said, perhaps 
by a fisherman, that man doesn't have gold - the gold has him. I read 
in my newspaper that perhaps millions will lose their homes in the 
present financial crisis. They will lose it having chased the American 
dream that riches can be bought cheaply. 

The richness of my life has nothing to do with money. I can say this
with utmost honesty. I live month-to-month on what I earn, doing what I 
love to do. Since leaving the brightly coloured curve of Tobermoray, I 
have sailed the world. Not fishing of course, yet seeing the 
inequalities of wealth... extreme wealth and extreme poverty. 

To this day, there are men, my fathers, who have never left the island.
Never seen the world, never talked about love to their children. Some 
of those children grew up and left to become bankers, or pilots, or 
CEO's. Me, well I just went my way, called by the sea, learning we 
cannot buy those things we love most. We can never own great art; we 
can only own custody of it. So think about this, forget I'm a 
yachtsman, raised by fishermen who never spoke about love, and remember 
that your life is on loan to you. You do not own that next smile, it 
has been gifted to you, use it to appreciate it.  It is a priceless 
thing. 

There are men in the world I rate as hundred point men. Men I have
admired and trusted; men I have never met but read about, and men, a 
few at least, who managed to catch me and clip my ear for my cheek. I 
learned to love a woman, to understand she could never be mine, but 
was, of course, only on loan to me. I treasure no possessions. If my 
life has any value it is only in the appreciation others have for me. 
If they love me, like me, wish me well then my life is rich enough. 

If I'm unhappy, I move to where I will be happy. If I'm abused no
individual could keep me in close proximity. Ideals are painful. They 
cannot be a collection of pretty and casual preferences. I was never a 
better man for having money. Writing came late. Perhaps it came at the 
right time. Maybe it's still too early. 

Fishermen never spoke to me about love. 

I do. 

With anyone who will listen. 


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