That's what this felt like to me:



I've never seen the Cutty Sark. Perhaps now I never will. But I've loved that ship for over 30 years. In middle school, I took a modeling class. I built a model of the Cutty Sark. Mom did the rigging. We did it together, and that makes it special.

If I look closely, I can see how crude my modeling and painting work was (and I doubt I'd do any better now). But if I look from across the room, I see the Sark, full sail, riding the waves. I hear the gulls, and the Captain shouting out orders. I smell the salt spray.

That's our ship, Mom's and mine. I've taken it with me wherever I've lived in all the years since. And I always wanted to see the real thing, but business never took me to London. Now, despite their optimism, I suspect it's gone for good.

But our Cutty Sark still sails.