ON STRENGTH AND SHARING

TOM HOXSIE, CAPTAIN of the fishing vessel North Star, sat cross-legged beside a woodstove in his toolshed. It was late February in coastal Rhode Island, grey inside and out, and Tom was cupping a warm mug of green tea on the stool where he spent his weekdays, part of a boat-building routine with his son that was leading to the off-season creation of a small wooden skiff. The shed door opened to a hoop house covered in clear plastic, which snapped in the cold gusts. Outside, under snow, the raised beds of his garden were frozen solid.

An old wool sweater hung on him like a loose sail. Tom sipped his tea, looked at his withered hands, and summed up the state of his life. “I’m down to bones,” he said. “My ribs stick out. My shoulder blades stick out. My hips stick out. My thigh is thin until you get to the knee.” He had once been heavy, hearty and strong.