I’d drawn on the grayscale printed map with yellow highlighter and purple gel pen, the yellow to highlight the route to the ferry, and the gel pen to mark the street names, and directional arrows to show me which way to go. It’d been fifteen or more years since I’d traveled this route, and the very first time that I was driving it, rather than being a mere passenger in the family car.

Family. The word makes me sigh. Hubby and I were on our way to visit a member of his family, a sister he hadn’t seen in six years, and whom I’d yet to meet but on Facebook. The last time he’d seen her, their mother had passed away from cancer.

Three weeks ago, we’d acquired a car, and gleefully considered where we’d travel first. Two weeks ago, my grandmother passed away abruptly from a heart attack. Yesterday was my grandmother’s funeral. I was thankful that I could attend, and I was really happy that hubby could go with me; a career in retail means that you don’t generally get to take a holiday between October and January due to the seasonal winter events and sales coming up, and his boss only gave him the required two days off grudgingly.

I was nervous about the car, but it showed me that it liked the road, the exercise, and the rare opportunity to really let loose. Hubby asked me many times on the 200 mile car ride how I was feeling. Even during the funeral, the only times my eyes got wet was when my brother-in-law, uncle-in-law, and father choked up during the informal reading of words written by their wives. We stayed for the inevitable potlatch afterward, and even spent a couple hours at my aunt’s place, where the family was gathered.

And afterwards, we planned to ride the ferry. That way, it would only be a two-hour drive to find the place to stay for the night, rather than tackling the four-hour drive. I’d planned an overnight stay so that if emotions hit me hard, I wouldn’t drive us off the road by blubbering into the steering wheel. My aunt’s place was too full to accommodate two more sleeping bags, and I went to Plan B, asking Andrew’s sister if we might crash at her pad for the evening. His sister, who’d wanted to make plans to see us for nearly half a year, was ecstatic that we’d be able to visit.

I rode down streets that should have been vaguely familiar but for which I was drawing a complete blank, trusting on hubby’s ability to interpret my map scribblings. We found ourselves on the stretch of road on which the queue for the ferry began. We were traveling at 5pm on a Friday evening and I figured we’d be backed up in traffic 3-4 boatloads back. But the road was clear as we neared the terminal. There was a short pause in which the cars just ahead of us piled into the boat, and then we were guided into the queue lanes nearest the boat dock. I figured that we’d be stuck there until the next boat came, for which I was thankful not to be farther back and up the road. But then we were guided right onto the dock, were the very last cars in front of us were squeezed onto the boat. We were in the second lane, three cars from the edge of the pier, when we stopped, the barricade went down, and the ferry started on its way across the Sound.

I squee’d and clapped my hands. “I could not have asked for a better way to end the day!” I gushed more than once. The sun was just beginning to dip behind the clouds of the Olympic Mountains. “Home” for hubby and me is on the other side of them. We watched the clouds grow pink, and then purple. We got out of the car and walked all the way up to the front, up the stairs to look at the waning sunset and peer at the water and the city beach. I pointed out the boat on the other side of the water that would eventually make its way towards us. We stayed out there, the air getting colder, the water lapping less than three feet below the dock, until I saw “our” ferry round the corner and become the primary focus of the seascape.

I have so many memories of this dock, and its companion across the water. We took this route nearly every other weekend to visit my aunt, and my grandma, and many other relatives who reside in the Puget Sound area. How fitting that I should find myself here, on this day, with grandma firmly and presently in mind.

We pulled into the ferry, second in line on the far right lane. It was full-on night by now. The familiar ship engine roared and rumbled beneath our feet. The ship got fuller and we bailed to make our way upstairs. I announced that I was going to use the restroom, and then stand right on the front of the deck outside. Hubby did the same, and together, we went to watch our little jaunt across the water from the most forward spot possible, right against the front rail. We hugged, and just watched, as the ship departed the dock, and headed out.

Somewhere in there I thought about grandma, and how it would be the last ferry ride I’d associate with her. My tears began to flow, and I sobbed a little, the wind fierce and cold enough to make my eyes water even more. I didn’t cry for long, but I did shed tears for her. Hubby handed me three coins, and after holding them for a minute, I spoke a few words and threw each one into the water, kissing each first and then flinging them off to the side, watching them flash in the railing lights before falling into the churning water. “Goodbye, Grandma,” I said, and shook a little. Hubby held me close, and cried a little too.

We watched the last of the sunlight dim behind the mountains, and beyond that, the ocean. We watched the ship on the other dock leave its harbor, and begin its route towards us. We watched small waves break along the side of the ship. We watched the stars, and a tugboat dragging a barge along the waterway.

Feeling regret from not having tried harder to contact my grandmother, and the words from the funeral coming to mind, her favorite saying, “It is what it is” keeping that regret in perspective, I stayed until we neared our last turn, and went back down the deck steps, went inside, used the restroom again and washed my face, got back into the car, and waited for us to dock. When it was time, we drove off the dock, and continued the driving portion of our journey. I watched the ferry fade from my rear view mirrors, gave a shuddering sigh, and resolved to get to my sister -in-law’s house before falling apart.

Probably related:

• February 7, 2012 -- Billing Woes
• January 14, 2012 -- Snow! In Winter! Shocking!
• December 31, 2011 -- One More End of Year Meme