My mom would have turned 69 today had she lived. Today marks the second birthday I’ve celebrated at sea on this trans-Atlantic passage – mine, with Mia’s birthday balls dessert on Jan 25; and mom’s this morning, where on my 0200-0400 early morning watch I shared a quiet cry and contemplated the sea and the stars for two hours by myself in the cockpit, gazing out at the vastness and just being.Those eagle feathers Mia had gathered on the beach in far northern Norway, a good omen just prior to our Barent’s Sea crossing to Svalbard, and which have been living at the nav station ever since…I cast them into the sea this morning, a tribute to my mom today on her birthday and a way for me to break down in tears for a much needed release. My mom was the most spiritual person I knew, in the universal sense, and I couldn’t help but think about her this morning watching the waves go by and the stars overhead. I saw three shooting stars during my time outside alone, sparkling phosphorescence in ISBJORN’s wake and distant lightning illuminating the sky in the far northwest. And she was a skeptic, where I get it from. What the hell do we know about the universe? ‘We’ as the collective humanity. Hocus-pocus or not, I felt my mom’s energy this morning and suddenly realized I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else than there just then, celebrating and thinking about her.