A Life Shared — Holding Hands Through the Voyage

07 Mar A Life Shared — Holding Hands Through the Voyage

Sharalyn S. Morrow Stabbert
May 10, 1945, Seattle, Washington — March 7, 2026, Honolulu, Hawaii

This is a remembrance of my wife, Sharry — my companion for sixty-one years, my partner in life, in work, and in adventure.

Sharry was born Sharalyn S. Morrow on May 10, 1945, at Swedish Hospital in Ballard, Seattle. When I met her, she was seventeen years old, a junior at Ballard High School. Years later she liked to tell people that during our very first date she looked across the table and thought to herself, “I’m going to marry that man.”

We were married soon after, Sharry at nineteen and me at twenty-one.

Looking back now, I realize we were two very young and uncertain people trying to build something steady together. Sharry was hoping to escape the tension she felt at home, and I was hoping to escape the shadow of a very controlling father. What we found in each other was not perfection, but partnership. We held on to each other, and we kept holding on for the next sixty-plus years.

In the beginning, our dreams seemed very different.

I was drawn to the water. I had grown up on boats and ships, and the ocean always felt like home to me.

Sharry, by contrast, had nearly drowned as an infant and carried a deep fear of the water all her life.

Yet somehow, the sea became the thread that wove our lives together.

For our honeymoon we borrowed a 23-foot Owens cruiser and traveled nearly one hundred miles from Seattle through the San Juan Islands and into the Canadian Gulf Islands. On the return trip we crossed the Strait of Juan de Fuca in rough weather. For once, I insisted that we both wear life jackets.

That early voyage was only the beginning.

Over the decades Sharry crossed the Pacific Ocean twelve times and the Atlantic once. She sailed the Mediterranean and the Adriatic. She traveled to New Zealand, Japan, Europe, the Aleutians, and countless places in between.

For someone who began life terrified of the water, she became a remarkably tough sailor.

Her favorite watch was the late night watch between 9 p.m. and midnight. She loved the quiet of the ocean at night — the stars above and the sound of the sea moving under the hull.

Sharry loved the ocean crossings. Her ideal passage was longer than five days but shorter than twenty-one.

Long enough for the world to fall away.

Learning, Building, and Creating Together

Sharry encouraged me to pursue a college education, and she pursued her own with equal determination.

She attended Seattle Pacific University and later the University of Washington, graduating with a degree in English literature, reflecting her lifelong love of reading and learning. But her curiosity did not stop there. She also attended the Cornish School of Art, studying painting and black-and-white photography.

Sharry loved ideas. She loved creativity. And she loved being involved in the things we were building together.

When I took a construction estimating class at the University of Washington, she insisted on sitting in on the lectures, even though the class had nothing to do with her degree. That was Sharry.

She wanted to understand everything.

Soon after graduating, we started a custom homebuilding company together. Sharry handled the interior design for the homes we built and worked closely with our clients. Her eye for color, space, and balance was extraordinary.

Eventually she created her own interior design company, Creative Designs, which she successfully operated for ten years.

Later, our interests shifted toward something bigger. We began acquiring properties along the Kirkland waterfront with the hope of transforming what had once been a neglected shoreline into a lively, walkable community where people could work, live, and gather. At our peak we owned twenty-eight waterfront properties. Sharry poured herself into that vision — bringing art galleries, markets, and community spaces into the area.

Not every idea succeeded. Some were resisted. Some required long legal battles. Some simply took time. But Sharry believed deeply that places could be made better when someone cared enough to imagine them differently.

One of her most ambitious projects grew out of her love for boats and the marine world.

Together we founded Superyacht Northwest, bringing together designers, shipbuilders, engineers, and owners from across the Pacific Northwest. She personally traveled to international boat shows in Monaco and Nice, promoting the region’s shipbuilding talent.

For several years she worked nearly full-time organizing what became one of the most respected superyacht gatherings on the West Coast.

Eventually she stepped away from the project for a simple reason. It was interfering with her cruising schedule. And Sharry had decided it was time to see the world.

Traveling the World

In 2000 we purchased a boat called Starr, a seventy-five-foot motor vessel.

Sharry sat down in the salon, looked around quietly, and said simply:

“I want this boat.”

While Starr was not technically a superyacht, she was a strong and capable vessel that could go almost anywhere. And we did.

Six months later we owned it. Sharry immersed herself in all aspects of world cruising.

Sharry had once dreamed of living six months in every major city in the world. Cruising allowed us to come close.

Before we arrived anywhere, Sharry would read everything she could find about the country — its writers, its artists, its history. Then she would lead us ashore to explore.

Sometimes our plans lasted only a few hours. Once we stopped in La Rochelle, France, intending only to fuel up and continue south. Sharry walked through the farmers market and announced we were staying. We stayed nine months.

Sharry the Grandmother

When our granddaughter Kathrine Elena Stabbert (Kat)  was born in 2011, Sharry could hardly wait to share time with her. Sharry often spoke about her own grandmother, CletaBelle Johnson, who had created magical childhood memories for her and her sister. Grandma Johnson would tuck them into a big bed wearing her flannel nightgown and take them on spontaneous driving adventures that always seemed to end at a park.

Sharry wanted to be that kind of grandmother for Kat. And she was. There were trips to Woodland Park Zoo. Cruises to the San Juan Islands.

Adventures in Desolation Sound. And summers at Henry Island.

One of their final great adventures together was on a voyage in Japan in 2023.

Those memories remain part of Kat’s inheritance — a bond that stretches across generations.

Trials and Growth

Like most long marriages, ours was not without trials. There were difficult years early in our careers when financial pressures nearly crushed us. There were times when interest rates soared and projects stalled and we faced the real possibility of bankruptcy.

There were also times when I struggled personally. At one point my drinking and anger had grown so bad that Sharry had to take our children to a motel to escape my outbursts.

Many marriages would not have survived those years. But Sharry stayed.

Eventually, with the encouragement of friends, I began therapy — work that continued for thirty years. Later, Sharry began therapy herself, exploring her own life and inner world.

When she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s many years later, she returned to therapy again — determined to face even that challenge with honesty and courage.

That was Sharry’s way. She did not turn away from life’s hardest questions. She walked straight toward them.

The Cruising Community

Over the years Sharry and I became part of many communities — sailors, hikers, aqua-joggers, yacht club friends, friends in other countries we visited. Those friendships carried us through many seasons of life.

In these final years especially, the outpouring of love from these communities has meant more to us than words can express. People showed up. They visited. They helped. They reminded us that life is never meant to be navigated alone.

Family and Relationship

Our sons Brent and Brooke came to visit Sharry during these final weeks. It was not easy to see their mother in this stage of life, but they came — out of love for her and out of support for me.

That meant more than I can say.

Families, like voyages, sometimes encounter difficult weather. People see the world differently. They make different decisions about health, safety, beliefs, and how to live.

Sharry and I always believed something simple but important: People who love each other do not have to agree on everything in order to remain in relationship. Love is larger than that. Love allows space for difference. Love keeps the door open.

Sharry believed deeply in caring for the body through diet, exercise, and mindfulness. Others approach health in different ways. These differences are part of the world we live in today.

But Sharry would always say that the important thing is not that everyone thinks the same way. The important thing is that we stay connected. That we continue to share life with one another. Especially across generations.

Sharry always hoped Kat would continue to feel welcome to travel, explore, and share time together as family. That door remains open.

The Final Passage

As Alzheimer’s progressed, Sharry moved into memory care at the Plaza in Waikiki. Even there, her curiosity about people never faded. She spent her days in the activity room surrounded by others, sometimes participating, sometimes simply watching — but always present.

Eventually she entered hospice care. Sharry had made her wishes very clear years earlier. She did not want extraordinary measures to prolong life. She wanted comfort, dignity, and peace.

I honored that wish, bringing her home where she rested here with me, overlooking Waikiki Beach.

Her intake gradually declined until she stopped eating and drinking entirely.

She slept peacefully most of the time, with music playing softly nearby.

I sat beside her as I have for more than sixty years, still holding her hand.

What Sharry Taught Us

Sharry’s life was full — of art, travel, creativity, courage, and curiosity.

But perhaps the greatest lesson she leaves behind is simpler.

Life will always bring storms. There will be disagreements, hardships, and moments when the way forward is not clear. But if we hold onto our core principles — kindness, curiosity, courage, and love — we can navigate even the hardest seas. And if we remain willing to stay in relationship with one another, those seas become navigable.

Sharry lived her life that way. And I believe she would want all of us — family, friends, sailors, and travelers — to continue doing the same.

The voyage continues.

Memorials

There will be a memorial for family and friends upon Starr’s arrival back in Seattle in September, where a portion of her ashes will be spread at the Ballard entrance buoy where our parents are.  There will also be a memorial in May 2027 when Starr arrives into Honolulu where a portion of her ashes will be spread at the bight at Diamond Head. We will be sure to post the dates and times. Aloha & Blessings