If once you have slept on an island,
you’ll never be quite the same;
you may look as you looked before
and go by the same old name.
You may hustle about in street and shop,
you may sit at home and sew,
but you’ll see blue water and wheeling gulls
wherever your feet may go.
You may chat with the neighbors of this and that
and close to the fire keep,
but you’ll hear ship whistle and lighthouse bell
and tides beat through your sleep.
And you won’t know why and you can’t say how
such change upon you came,
but once you have slept on an island
you’ll never quite be the same!
I was going to write about our adventures getting to the island, however time has slipped quickly by me since I’ve returned home. Here I am, tonight, my last night of physical freedom. Tomorrow I am hospital bound to start this fight again. Mom and I will be spending the day together until I am wheeled into the surgical room to have the procedure done to get the port put back into my chest to prepare for adminstration of chemotherapy next week.
I am taking my memories of the island with me. The best vacation ever. Thank you Rick!
The poem that you just read was left for us in our bamboo pole mailbox on the first night of our private island retreat.
I love those last few words….. you’ll never quite be the same.