Sylvia's Journal

Axel’s tiny lobster boat finally went into the water yesterday; without the traps. It was the first time in two years that it was launched – last year it never even left Andrew’s barn. Taking his dory out is one of Axel’s summer joys and it nearly looked like it wasn’t going to happen for the second summer in a row. Once on the beach, where it stays anchored to the big tree when not in use, Axel used to be able to take it out into the water on a set of wheels, all by himself. Yesterday he found out that this is not possible anymore, the strain on lower and upper back too much. This will cramp his style a little bit but since we have Steve living with us, he can call on him to help him out for the remainder of the warm weather days.

In the afternoon we had nearly our whole fleet out: Axel in his boat, Steve in the red kayak and I in my Alden (while Tessa was selling leather goods in Rockport). Rowing on machines is much of what Axel does at the PT office and so doing the real thing seemed to make sense; but it is a little harder with waves and wind. Axel tried the Alden and did well for a first time but from his face I could see he was not enjoying it, wanting instant perfection, not practice.

Back in his own dory we made the first outing onto the ocean a short one, not quite to Singing Beach. It was my second in the Alden shell that day. It is wonderful to surf the waves and feel the spray. When this summer comes to a close I will have rowed more in the Alden on the ocean than in the much narrower single on the Charles.

The second first happened after dinner when Axel played the guitar. I think he was truly shocked that he could do that, the left hand and fingers moving as if nothing ever happened to them. It may have looked like a familiar and ordinary scene – man strumming guitar – but it was extraordinary as we all remembered the lifeless left arm, hand and fingers, only a year ago. We were all moved by this new milestone. Our diner guests, Anne and Chuck, didn’t even know Axel played the guitar. I was happy he picked it up again as it brought back memories of Beirut when he wooed me with his improvisations while muttering that he had no idea how to play. I thought a guitar-playing man was very romantic. I still do.