O Captain, my Captain

My cousin and best friend growing up was widowed suddenly several years ago. She and her sweethusband had been planning a cruise for the following year. After he died, she didn’t want to do onething that they had planned together – except for this trip. She asked if I’d like to go and of course I saidyes.It was a great adventure and included the opportunity to stand a few feet from – and gaze upon (as myDaddy would say) – Rembrandt’s “Return of the Prodigal Son,” hanging in the Hermitage Museum in St.Petersburg, Russia. Our itinerary included a stay in England, half a dozen other countries, countlesscities along the Baltic Sea, palaces, and other sights to make this Tennessee kid’s head spin.But seeingthis painting was the only thing I had put on the list. And viewing it was incredible – no question. I’llnever forget it. But you know what I remember more often from this voyage? It was a message thatcame out of the ceiling every morning.Our evenings were pretty consistent. Like our fellow travelers, she and I would socialize the night away,then find our stateroom and our pillows as our ship continued to steam through the darkness. Firstthing every morning, a bell would ring and the loudspeaker over the bed would activate. And then ourCaptain would say, with conviction, “Good morning! Today we are exactly where we ought to be.”I believed then – and I still believe – that, wherever we are in our journey, that reassurance is about themost comforting thing that any of us can hear. Today, I hope we are all exactly where we ought to be.Thanks Captain.