The ferry from Cedar Island, NC, to Ocracoke, NC, turned out to be an undocumented feature in Google Maps. That is, what looked like a road SR-12 across the bay, was not. In fact, I arrived at the ferry terminal just 30 minutes after the last ferry of the day departed. This resulted in me being separated from the comfort of my hotel room a mere 28 miles away. Thanks Google.
Then again, I need to learn how to absorb such setbacks in stride. Honestly, I don't have to be anywhere immediately, so perhaps this was a teachable moment, for me, with myself.
So, overnight (when I do my best thinking), it occurred to me it might be a nice, unique place to lay more of Tracy to rest: at sea. And so it has come to pass.
Over the bow, she went, in a plume of ashy dust, barely there a second before the thrashing breezes ripped apart what had been as one almost 60 years, gone.
My brother asked me last night what all these musings are about. I had to confess I didn't know.
What I didn't know at the time I said it was that I don't know that same thing in every scale, large and small. I'm fractally uncertain. That is, except for one thing I know for sure: she is gone, and there's no getting her back.