Breathe in… Breathe out… Breathe in… Breathe out. If you are reading this while in the throes of a hectic island August, you might be thinking, “Yes, stay calm. Remember to breathe. Soon this pace of all good things will get slower and slower.”
There’s something about the timeframe of 10 to 12 years. I’ve read that you can master something new in this amount of time—and ultimately, if you are brave enough, have four different careers in a lifetime.
Islanders face more daunting eldercare problems than most. Those who have lived for 75 or 80 years in these small, close-knit and geographically isolated communities rightly resist moving to a mainland institution, where visits from family and friends are prohibitive due to ferry schedules and weather.
Town Manager Andrew Dorr said John Bubier, a retired municipal manager who lives in Yarmouth, will work for the town for 20 to 25 hours per week. He is expected to be on-island one day a week, more often when the work requires.
The news of my mother’s passing stunned me like a shot to my chest. My breath was stolen from my lungs and a lump had formed like a rock in the base of my throat.
When Kristen Kelley got offered a housesitting job on Islesboro, she thought she’d have a brief island adventure with her two daughters, whom she was homeschooling in Hawaii at the time. They’d enjoy the Atlantic Ocean, experience the seasons and have a refreshing five-month vacation.
This is the second of a three-part series recollecting the look and feel of Portland in the 1960s, '70s and '80s by a Maine writer who spent his youth there.
