We sold our kayak today.
This may seem like an insignificant event. But for me, it is not.
It is a very significant step towards a major life change. And the selling of my kayak brought a rush of emotions to me – fear, joy, melancholy, excitement, dread, happiness, grief and euphoria.
To understand the significance of this kayak I need to tell you the story.
The year was 1999 and we were living in the house we had built in Wauna, about 8 miles from our current home. This was a gorgeous home, with a stunning Mount Rainier view, but it was not on the water. While in this house we had owned a small Hobiecat sailboat, but had sold it, as it was difficult to store and to put in and out of the water at the local boat launch.
I started talking about getting a kayak instead. I told my husband I thought it would
be fun to have a kayak, which could be transported on top of our car. I talked about it for several months.
Finally my husband said, “If we are gonna buy a boat we should get a ski boat before the kids get any older.”
Well heck yeah. I loved that idea but hadn’t thought my husband was even considering taking on a motorboat. I went immediately into action, and next thing I know, we are at the Seattle Boatshow shopping for boats, and then buying a boat, a 17’ Glastron. (Still no kayak).
Small problem. Our little Subaru couldn’t pull a 17” Glastron.
So next thing I know we are car shopping, and buying a brand new Nissan Xterra.
(Still no kayak).
The kids are thrilled and we enjoyed using the boat and new car for about 4-5 months. (Still no kayak).
One sunny Sunday morning sitting on our deck drinking our coffee, my husband nearly knocked me off my chair with the following statement: “We should sell the house and move to a waterfront home.”
Well heck yeah. I loved this idea and went immediately into action. It took about six months before the house was on the market, three months to sell, and by the following March we were moved into our waterfront home on Wollochet Bay with major remodeling in our future.
But there was a boat out on our buoy and our new car in our garage. Our boys were enjoying it so much and our new life on the water had begun. (Still no kayak).
Mother’s Day morning I awake to the Lund Family tradition of breakfast in bed, but am guided out to the patio for breakfast on the patio – and to enjoy the view of my brand new double kayak. Finally I have a kayak.
Thirteen years later, the hours of enjoyment we have had in that lovely little double kayak cannot be calculated. Our beautiful home on our beautiful bay has been such a blessing, and our evening kayak rides around the bay are one of our favorite things. Our kids enjoyed the kayak as well. Our youngest used the kayak to commute to his job at the yacht club across the bay for four summers.
The red kayak in our front yard was a symbol of our fabulous life in our fabulous beach house.
But that time is coming to an end, and although I know it is the right thing to do, I continue to feel emotional about taking this big step. And saying goodbye to the kayak marks a grand passing.
Full circle we have come. I jokingly used to tell my husband when we were up to our eyeballs in sawdust while remodeling the beach house or when he had his head stuck in the engine of the boat when it was causing us problems, I would remind him “you should have just bought me a kayak when I asked.”
If he had, we wouldn’t have bought the boat, the car, the waterfront home.
But if that all hadn’t happened, we wouldn’t be the people we are today.
Life is a set of circumstances. It really is. The kayak’s departure marks the beginning of the end of an era.
Deep breath. The rollercoaster of emotions has just begun.