Love Letter to a Captain

The deck of the Pequod has always been my safe haven. A place I visit when life seems too terrifying to face. I first picked it up after the death of my great grandfather; a strong man that had always pushed me forward. He died a slow death from pancreatic cancer, a death I endured with him at his bedside for his last week. During the funeral procession I did not mourn, for Ahab mourned for me. When my grandmother was diagnosed with lupus I did not break, for Ahab broke for me. When I was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis I didn't fret for Ahab's disability was much greater. When I discovered I had a weak heart I did not cry, for Ahab shot his heart into the sea for me. This tragic hero; this glorious, beautiful man enthralled me. He became my light at the end of the tunnel. I lived through Ahab as he lived through me.

Moby Dick is my Bible, my Torah; my Koran. It speaks in hushed tones of life among other men; the diversity and mystery of existence. When my body and soul seem weak I can always find a verse within its pages to return the glisten to my eyes and the gust to my lungs. Some beg of me to explain why I would read such an old book, I frown upon these children for they disappoint me in the ignorance. Many people can't see the importance of this book in my life; they don't see it as my life-preserver in a sea of stress and fog. Many think I'm just obsessed; they think it's compulsive. They don't see the love Ahab and I share. Just as Ishmael and Queequig became betrothed through sharing a bed, Ahab and I become married as our souls lay together in one body.

Three years ago I laid in a hospital, an EKG machine and ultrasound machine show my heart's faulty chamber murmur as if through gritted teeth. I think to myself "how long until that valve fails on me completely?" and "will I be able to play with my kids when I'm 30?". Suddenly I'm over taken with the words and image of Queequig's first meeting with Ishmael. At that moment, I smiled; I smiled a warm, sunny smile. For the 30 seconds that that smile lasted, I swear on my life that my EKG registered a normal heartbeat.

As of now I'm on my 10^th read. My mother recently has suffered a heart attack and a rather bad internal infection due to her weakened state. I really think that at the end of my read; if I lose my mother, I'll turn my body away from the sun and take myself down with hearts alive. I'll sink with the ship, life pouring from my veins and I pray that I go down like the hawk wrapped in the flag and clenched fist of Ahab.