Full Fathom Five. . .

100' down in the deep blue sea

We're back in the grey and gloomy northeast after a week away in Florida, grateful for the time with family, yet wistful for the changes and losses we have weathered this year. One change is that for the first time, a family vacation didn't include our eldest spawn, as he's away at college with a different break schedule.

I am proud of him and the hard work he has done to get to where he is, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit how much I miss him and how much our family feels incomplete without him. This is one of the great ironies of parenting. Your children grow out of needing you, faster than you grow out of needing them.

So our youngest spawn gets to deal with all of our attention, without the diversion of his brother. :) And what a holiday he had.

My husband and I have been certified SCUBA divers for 25 years. Our sons got certified 2 years ago, but until last week, we've not had the opportunity to dive since their open water certification. This lovely photo was taken by the dive master during our descent to the Thunderbolt wreck in the Florida Keys. The ship sits on the sand 120' down and it was the deepest dive our son has done.

He did beautifully, and despite my worry beforehand, had no issues at all with managing his equipment, knowing how to be safe, and having an amazing time. Diving the wreck was definitely one of the highlights in his life. 

Mello like jello. . . kiddo hanging over the reef (photo by N Halin)

The underwater world is the closest most of us will come to being in space. It is an alien landscape, not always welcoming to interlopers, certainly one we have a healthy respect for. We take only photos and leave only bubbles. My husband has an underwater housing for his camera and has taken some remarkable pictures.

A school of yellowtail I could never catch

Grumpy Fish!

We were also able to spend some relaxing time with my father. Bittersweet for missing my mother who passed away in September of this past year.

My dad, with my sister and her fiance, myself, and my youngest son.

So the title of this post is a Shakespearean reference from The Tempest, my favorite of his plays.

  Full fathom five thy father lies;
              Of his bones are coral made;
    Those are pearls that were his eyes:
              Nothing of him that doth fade,
    But doth suffer a sea-change
    Into something rich and strange. 

It seems a fitting capstone for our time away. Everything changes. Our lives continually transform before our eyes. Perhaps, if we welcome it, into something rich and strange.