Arin (Stressed but Blessed) > Status Update

The Island: Trees, Trees, and More Trees

I look around at my unfamiliar surroundings, trying to decide if I’ve ever visited this island before during one of my voyages. I don’t think so, but, yet again, my memory isn’t what it used to be. As far as I can see—which isn’t very far, thanks to my terrible vision since I turned 50—there are trees. (Don’t turn 65, kids; it’s not fun.) Trees. A lot of trees.

“This is…great…” I whisper, spinning slowly in a circle, taking in my surroundings. I try to get myself to believe it, even as I ignore the slow churning of my stomach and the way the wind is sending a slight chill down my back.

“For now, I need to focus on getting off this island,” I tell myself. Another chill.

“Don’t worry. You’ve been on several voyages before! This isn’t new. This isn’t scary.” Except, it is. I’ve never been stranded on an island, much less stranded alone!

“On the bright side, there’s plenty of wood! Also, the falling leaves are beautiful. They look like something straight out of a fairy tale.” I try to focus on thoughts like these. Positive things, happy thoughts.

“Don’t dwell on your unease and panic. Look at the leaves, Richard. Look at the leaves.” As I think this, a flashback hits me.

It was Tuesday when my retirement voyage completely went sideways. I made it to this island, and the others climbed into a lifeboat. By the time they realized I was missing, I was too far gone. I try to think good thoughts, happy things, and think about my wife. I’m also thinking about how I’m going to get off this island. Then, it hits me.

“A raft! How stupid am I?” I really want to start building one now, but I soon realize surviving on an island is going to take a lot more than looking at leaves and being positive. I head out in search of four things. Fresh, clean water, food, shelter, and supplies for my raft. I found a small stream running with fresh water, and I nearly cried. It’s only been about 2 hours, but this old man is thirsty. I found a few edible looking plants, but I don’t know if I’m desperate enough to try my luck and eat one yet. I've mainly just found trees, trees, and guess what? More trees. At least one thing is working out in my favor. All the trees give me plenty of wood to build my raft. I’m going to start building it tonight.

As I work, the sky changes from that brilliant, beautiful shade of blue, to mesmerizing sunsets, and before I know it, the stars are out.

Jane Beth, my amazing wife, always says, “Look to the stars! You may just see a familiar face up there.” So, I do. My eyes settle on a cluster of stars that almost seems to form a shape. For just a moment, it feels like I can see her smiling back at me. I know it isn’t real—she’s at home, waiting for me—but the sight fills me with warmth instead of fear.

I sigh, imagining her voice saying, “Keep going, but do hurry. We’re waiting for you.” The feeling gives me the strength to keep working. When I glance back at the sky, the stars have shifted, and the image is gone. Once again, I am alone on the island—but not without hope.

I work all night, and all through the morning. My hands ache, my back is never going to be the same again, but my raft is almost done. I refuse to give up. Not when my wife and daughter are waiting for me. I’m going to rest now, but when I wake up, I’m finishing this raft and going home. For sleeping, I find a nice pile of fallen leaves, it’s not perfect, but nothing ever is. I can already feel the bug bites, but I’m getting off this island. Not just for me, but for my family, too.

“I finished my raft!” I shouted, pumping my fists in the air. Sure, it took about 24 hours in total, but it’s my best, and only way to get home. The raft itself is not very pretty, but that’s not what matters. It’s made of uneven logs tied with vines, with leaves stuffed into the cracks where water might sneak in. I’m confident it’s sturdy and safe, though—I’ve tested it at least three times. I’m not taking any chances with these old bones! Time to go home! I put the raft in the water and get on. I grab the long branches I’m going to use to paddle with and paddle about 10 feet into the water. I suddenly freeze. There's water gushing into my raft! I hurry to abandon the raft, but now I’m stranded in the cold water and I don’t know how to swim! It’s cold, and I’m starting to lose hope. But then, I see it. One of my paddles! I reach for my makeshift paddle and grab on to it. I paddle with my little legs as hard as I can. I’m kicking with all my might. Inch by inch, I drag myself back to the island.

“I’m never going to make it home.” I think.

“Look at me, I’m freezing, hungry, cold, alone. This is pointless.” But then, I see a faint light in the distance. My heart pounds as I realize, all hope might not be lost. I start waving my arms and yelling as loud as I can. I scream as if my life depends on it. In this case, I guess it does. At first I thought it didn’t work, but then, the boat turned and headed right for me. They pull me aboard, and when I get on, the first people I see are my wife and 22-year-old daughter. I hug them both tightly and say,

“I’m so glad you’re here! You saved me!” My daughter, oh, my daughter. She sure is something.

She looks at me and says, “Yeah, yeah Dad. Love you and all that. Anyway, how’d you get so wet?”

I laugh, and say, “Sit down, and I’ll tell you. So, once upon a time, there was a man named Richard. He had a beautiful wife and a great daughter. Then, one day, he gets stranded on a deserted island…” As I tell her the story, my story, we sail into freedom, away from the island, my island, and toward new beginnings and possibilities.


2 weeks later: Me, my wife, and our beautiful daughter are doing well. We decided, well, more like they decided to take me to an amusement park to celebrate my retirement, rather than trying to complete a voyage again. I soon learned that, yeah, sure, I can handle raging seas and storms, but a roller coaster, that’s enough to do me in. I’m living my best life now, though. People keep asking if I’ll try another voyage. Will I? I genuinely don’t know. All I know is that I’ll be here, safe, grateful, and ready for whatever happens next.


The end!