It seems like we are losing people faster than we are gaining them around here, all of this death unexpected even when it's anticipated and prepared for. One more person we knew and now don't know any longer. In the late nights we recite our blessings like prayers, reminding ourselves that lost is only gone once we've stopped remembering. Making plans for planting flowers and then letting go, one more time.
They found a whaling ship, last week, lost for the last 188 years under the waves near Honolulu, except that there was no ship. The warm water has softly washed away all of the wood, every bone of the vessel. What was left was a suggestion of the ship, a harpoon and some accessories, an outline of what had been lost. Most of what was found has already been swallowed by the coral reef. Likely many things that haven't been found have also already been taken by the water and the animals and time. Two other ships had gone down in the same place in later years, and it was only the collected debris that identified this spot as that ship's resting place.
Of all the places to be lost for almost 200 years, those warm waters are probably not the worst.
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