The old sailor stood on the shore. The waves hissed as they washed back and forth over the sand and weeds which littered the shore. The sun set in a multitude of colors taking his breath away.
He stood, staring at the sea, searching, pining, longing, and yet if pushed could not tell you what he was longing for. A larger wave lapped at the sand reaching close to his feet. A small thrill slithered down his spine. He lit his pipe and sighed.
Twenty years he had been retired. It was nice at first; a time of relaxation, knowing he didn't have to get up and prep his ship everyday for a voyage. He liked that he could spend his autumn days with his wife and friends always at his side. He had given his shipping business to his son. His son made the business even more successful than the old sailor had.
Then, after two years, he son died in a tragic accident. During a summer storm out at sea, his son's ship collided with an ocean liner. The lightening ruined both his and the liner's navigational systems. His son, as a good captain of integrity, went down with the ship, he could have excepted, but his engineers couldn't, he tried to save them. The rest is history.
Of course, full of sorrow the old sailor was also filled with pride over his son's noble efforts, he'd have done the same. He was glad he was able to have taught his son to be such an upright young man and good captain, he just wish his son didn't have had to prove it in such a final way.
Time, as it does, lessened the pain, just the scar remained.
A year to the day, after his son's untimely death, his wife died from the drink. Not her fault she only her usual glass of wine at supper. It was a drunk driver that hit her car. She was on the way to store for, he he forgets, it doesn't matter now anyhow.
Every evening at sunset the Old sailor goes to the sea and looks, he longs, and fights back tears.
“Mister, what are you looking for?” The voice was young.
The Old sailor looks down and sees a boy of eight look at him with wide curious eyes.
“I don't know.” Said the Old sailor quietly.
“I sailed with my dad for the first time yesterday. Have you ever sailed before?” The little boy asked with such innocence. “There is nothing else like it!”
The boy reminded him of a couple of other kids he'd known,
He smiled at the boy, “I've spent most m'life in a boat, lad.”
“My dad said you are looking for something and wanted me to help you. He said that he used to sail with you.”
The old man nodded slowly. He had many men join his crew over the years.
“Well, there's a boat over there in the bay,” the boy pointed west, “let's go find what you're looking for!”
“I don't think it's out there, lad, not anymore.” The Old sailor puffed on his pipe. Yet, the sea did seem to call for him.
He looked at the boy. The boy looked to be about fifteen. This shook the Old sailor.
The teenager smiled. “I know where to look, I know what you've lost.”
“What,” whispered the Old sailor.
The boy was now about the age his son was when he died. He grabbed the Old sailor by the arm and led him toward the bay as night fell.
“You've lost your destiny? Your meaning? We both know, lets sail old friend, it's what we're made to do.”
The young and old men walked silently towards the wharf. The ship was an old one, like the Old sailor's father had in the early 1900s. They prepped the ship, and sailed off into the ocean.
No one ever saw the old man again, but then, no one was really looking either.
This is just a short story to give you some food for thought. It is ambiguous on purpose so you can glean your own meaning. I’d enjoy hearing what you have to say about it.
