Mother

On the 15th of august we arrived in Marseille. There, after 40 days of sailing & almost a year of separation, our family was once again complete (in our new, never really complete, version).

I don’t think my mother ever sailed without my father & I wasn't really sure she ever really liked it. I planned this voyage for her to have just one symbolic day of sailing, hoping for it to be as tranquile as she remembers. So, as my wish was the wind's command, it seemed to take a rest for that specific day, leaving us with the sea, as quiet is it can be.

It wasn't too long before I realized how wrong I was. It was when I saw my mother's disappointment as the lack of wind prevented Black Dolores from tilting enough to let my mother dip her legs in the big blue sea. I don’t know if it was a real love for the sea or the longing for my father, but when he suddenly appeared in the form of a gentle wind, tilting his first & second love just enough to let some water race against their skin, it was impossible not to notice my mother's genuine smile.


As she later told me, Black Dolores & her did not love from the first sight. On their first voyage to Cyprus, my mother refused to spend the night on board in the marina
& demanded my father to book an hotel room. When she saw him in his misery – being so close & yet so far away from Black Dolores, she decided to embrace his new young lover & do her best to love her too.