It’s been almost 10 years since I took over the helm of the Clay family ship. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but I hate being the captain of this damn ship. I bitch about it a lot – ask anyone who spends more than five minutes with me. I am a woman who knows her strengths, and I’m well aware that decision-making is not among them. Jeff was decisive. He had opinions. Strong ones. About absolutely everything. I’m not saying he was bossy, but – well, yes, actually, I am. He was bossy. And I was good with that, most of the time. Because while I have VERY strong opinions on certain things, not so much on everything else. He liked to research every little choice and present me with his findings, and I liked to agree with him so I would have no responsibility whatsoever if the decision went bad. Because responsibility sucks, and I want no part of it. Our arrangement worked. He was the captain of our family ship, and I just kind of let him sail.
Until he wasn’t here to sail us anymore. Well, hell. Best laid plans and all that. Last year, I thought my stint as family captain was finally coming to an end. But again with the best laid plans, and my littles and I learned some tough lessons in the first part of 2016. The toughest of which was that sometimes people you love choose to leave, and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it, no matter how much it hurts or how little you understand. My girls only had experience with people leaving because they had no choice – this was a new one for them, and they struggled with it. But our beloved tribe of friends and family helped me use it as a teachable moment – people do leave, for one reason or another, all through our lives, and sometimes we understand why and sometimes we never find out, and sometimes we get to say goodbye and other times we don’t. In every case, all we can do is pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, learn what we can from the experience, cherish the memories (and, after enough time has passed, the people who helped us make them), and trust that something better lies ahead. And so it goes, forever and ever, amen, for pretty much everyone on the planet.
As for me – I climbed back into that godawful captain’s seat. Never let it be said that I don’t do things up right. I climbed back in, and I made some changes and I … bought a house. Because when I do finally make a decision, I MAKE A DECISION, dammit. I don’t just switch from DirecTV to Dish, or adopt a pet, or maybe paint the family room. I buy a house. With a pool. Which I’ve never had and am clueless on how to take care of. And a yard. A big one. Which I’ve also never had. And did I mention that my own house isn’t even listed yet? And we’re halfway to closing, school ends tomorrow, and it’s a pit. Yeah. There’s that. But I AM THE CAPTAIN, AND I HAVE DECIDED. So sometime in mid-June, assuming the closing goes as scheduled, the Clay girls shall move across Pleasant Valley Road and start over. And it will be good. I’ve decided that too, and I am CAPTAIN, so my word is law.
Did I lose my mind? Take a total dive into the deep end? Maybe. But we love this new house already. We have some work to do to make it our own, but we’re so excited to have our own pool (Night swimming! Floating with cocktails!) and a yard big enough for a trampoline and a firepit with an actual sitting area (which still has to be built, but whatever. My decision, remember?) We already have friends in the neighborhood – me too, not just the girls – and we’re planning our first shindig. Open invite, y’all.
Maybe this time I’ll add a cushion to my captain’s seat to make it a little more comfy. Maybe I’ll learn, finally, that taking responsibility by making a proactive choice instead of just reacting to whatever life hands me isn’t so bad after all. And maybe someday, someone will come along who really does want to share that seat. We still think so. We still hope so. In the meantime – we have a house to turn into our home, and pool parties to throw, and summer 2016 looks a whole lot brighter than winter did. I’ll let you know how it’s going when I’m captain of my pool float.
Amy Clay 