There Are No Words

This post will contradict the title.

I wanted to post this while my feelings and thoughts were still on the surface and it will probably take me hours to word correctly. A day or two after something like this happens feelings get muted and numb. Some may wonder, why would you post this now? There must be something better you could be doing, why would you want to remember this? But there isn't anything else I could be doing, except waiting. I probably will get little sleep tonight and this is a way to release my feelings when I am trying to be strong for my family, is also keeps my mind on a steady track in order to collect my thoughts.

Tonight, my mother's boyfriend - i hate this word, it seems so immature and small - her love is what I will consider him in this post, was taken from her tonight, from us. Everyday we forget or put in the back of our minds the dangers of the job that most of our men and woman face.
I come from a small fishing community of Grand Manan Island. My mothers love, was lobster fishing when he went into the water without a sound and in the blink of an eye. There was nothing that could have stopped it or that the men he was with could have done. This was between 4:30pm and 5:30pm. As I write this sentence it is 12:20am Dec 21 2012 and there has been no sign. There is no way that we will ever see him walk through the doors again. The temperature of our oceans water this time of real is beyond breath-takingly cold, it is life-takingly cold, his chance of survival for a couple of hours would have been surprising. It has been 7 hours now. My mother knows that it's over, but she still has hope they may find his body. She is such a strong woman, I can only half image how she feels. George was family to me, but he was her love.

First off I would like to thank our amazing community.
The amount of boats that went to the scene to search for hours in the dark and cold. Except it was anything but dark. The power of over 20 vessels lit up the waters surface, 2 helicopters and countless flares in the sky sent light from above. I heard it looked like a city on the sea searching for a lost man. The search will end in a couple of hours.
Then there are the people from home that are waiting for news just like us. I truly believe that when one of our hearts breaks here on the island at least half of the communities hearts are heavily filled or cracked and broken as well. I want to thank you for all the kind words, thoughts, prayers and hugs from afar.
Second I would like to thank our amazing friends and family. That came to sit with us, cry with us and laugh with us when we don't feel like laughing. I have felt true love from many of my close and distant family members and friends. People I haven't seen in a long time and people I see every day. It is a small community, but with jobs and other everyday life, we drift apart and get caught up in what life is. It saddens me that we only come together at holidays and tragedies, I wish I could feel the amount of love I felt when we were all crammed into one house, everyday.
Third I would like to thank God, for being with all of us affected. I would still like to send an online prayer that you look over my mother and Georges family a few provinces away.

Some may ask why put God third? I have been struggling inside alot with my inner religion and at a time like this it is very hard to understand God's choices and decisions. I know I shouldn't be angry with him but I am. I am angry at many things right now. I remember to thank God and included him because I know everything happens for a reason, that it's all I know. Right now I have so many questions for God I could sit down and interrogate him for all the pain my mother is feeling. So yes how I feel right now, God is third.

It is now 1:30am and the rcmp officer just left our house. There wasn't much he could tell us or anything like that, he came to find out if there were any people we needed help contacting, but we have done the bulk of that ourselves. It was nice to sit with him and talk, even laugh. Most encounters with officers are tense and awkward, but this was friendly and comforting. ( I had to stop writing this post to speak to the police so times could be messed up a bit)

At the beginning of the night, when I first got the call about my mother's love, I thought, "Oh okay, he's fallen over and they've picked him out of the water and they'll sail in and have to take him to the hospital to check him over." With in minutes, those thoughts were hopes and grasps of wishes.

We just got our last call from the Search and Rescue, they have called off the search at 1:47am. I've had to watch my mothers heart break before my eyes. Not physically, but the pain on her face creates a mental picture I will never erase. As I listen to her cry in her room I can't help but wish I could take all her pain away. That I was a sponge that absorbed all sadness, I would rather feel it myself then to see her this way and hear her this way.

I am sad, but I am angry. I am heart broken that my mother has to have the agony of this inside her heart. After finally finding happiness again, she could only enjoy it for a short time before having it stolen from her. I am angry at God and do not understand his "plan" I know I will forgive him and have in ways already, but I am still angry. Like when someone wrongs you, and you forgive them, but you don't forget what they did. I feel my mother has been wronged.

I am angry at the greediness of our world. That these men risk their lives to make a living for their families and put food on our tables and other peoples tables, and people think they make large amounts of money, some do, but not average. The money hungry, top of the pyramid "buyers" make me sick. I feel like my mother's love died for $2.75 - 3.25 a pound. To me that doesn't amount to his life. He loved fishing, but just because he loved it, doesn't make it right that he lost his life for so little. I feel cheated. I feel like making the money hungry "buyers" go fishing on a small boat in the fall. Then ask them what they think they should be paid at the end of the day, or better yet a season.

Tonight, I was even angry at the snow. I hadn't seen much snow until tonight and I wanted the first time I stood outside in the snow to be a happy day. This was not a happy day. As I stood on my doorstep, after gathering my things to stay with my mother, I watched the snow slowly and softly fall from the sky. When tragic things happen and it rains, as I child I believe that God was crying. As I stood, I wondered, "what was snow? ... frozen tears for a fisherman lost in the cold sea? or was God trying to show me some beauty to the world that he had just flipped upside down for my family?" I didn't really care either way. I am angry and sad. It really doesn't matter.
I started to focus on single flakes falling and as I grew more angry, it seemed the snow fell faster. I wanted to lay out on my lawn and let it bury me. I wanted escape, I wanted denial.
To be honest, I lost hope very fast tonight. I knew what the outcome would be and accepted it long before I should have. They save have hope, be positive. I've never been a optimist, nor a pessimist, I'm a realist and I knew the odds. It was just the waiting game, for the search to end. I am forever thankful for those who searched for a body, for the closure for my mother and the rest of Georges family. But me, I don't need a body, but understand why others do. I realized that back in feb when I heard a dear friend from across the globe had drown. I didn't want them to find the body - they did and I'm happy they did for his family - but I would rather have believe he wasn't gone. That he had jumped aboard a ship and sailed to far off places and that someday, some where in the strangest and most random of places, I would catch a glimpse of his face and smile.
It isn't this way with George, but I still don't need a body to know the fate. It was more of a mystery with my friend, maybe because it was a different location, closer to shore, but in the middle of the bay, 2hr sail from shore. There is no swimming to land and taking off on grand adventures.

It is 2:08am and the house is silent. My mother is quiet, either sleeping or lying awake starring into a happier that once was her life. But the house is silent, except the clicking of my keys as I write this post. I think I hear my dog licking his puppy parts, but mostly it's quiet. I could probably ramble longer, but I think this post has done it's job. I have clearly thought my thoughts and written them to justify my feelings. I may never look at it again or I could daily for weeks, but I did it for release. I'm alone in the post and feel weight off my shoulders each sentence typed.

Usually I would sign "Stay Happy" but I am unable to in this dark time. Instead I will leave you with...



Thank you.