cookiesinheaven

It was a beautiful service. Richard would have loved it. Simple...and on the ocean.

His wife, Linda and his sons, Gary, Stephen and Keith took Nocturne, Richard's boat, out on the ocean and spread his ashes. A whale swam close by as if to welcome the spirit of the salty old sea dog who is returning to the blue depths...permanently.

If Richard wasn't in the air, he was out on Nocturne. They were notorious in the Wet Wednesday races and very few people could beat him when he was the skipper. He occassionally let Keith or my mom skipper...those were really the only times that Nocturne failed to put in a good show. Nocturne and Richard could "talk" to each other and the wind that filled the colorful spinnakers.

Photos of Richard were posted everywhere inside the dining room at the club and people spoke such loving words of a man who touched so many lives. And, in a tribute to his always thinking of others, in lieu of flowers, people were asked to send donations to the Los Angeles Childrens Hospital who, I believe, cared for his son David, who died of leukemia so many years ago.

As I stood on the deck of the Yacht Club, overlooking the vast vista of the Channel and the Islands, I felt the sun and the light breeze. I saw a school of dolphins playing near the shore. I glanced out and saw a lone spinnaker, off in the distance. For a second I thought it was Richard and Nocturne, but I knew it couldn't truly be...for he is gone.

I know Richard could never really be dead as long as he remains in my heart and my memories. I would like to think that Richard will always be with me, for he is the one who taught me how to raise the spinnakers to catch life and let the spirits of the winds take me where adventure lay, where others might not have ventured to.

I feel the wind of life coming back to me; time to raise the spinnaker. Only this time, alone.

I only wish he could have sailed along with us longer.