FAREWELLL ZUIDERDAM

       Today, I leave the Zuiderdam for a little tour around Ft. Lauderdale and then it’s on to the airport and a flight home. While this post won’t tell you what a wonderful time I’ve had, how much I loved the warm blue water, how good the sun felt on my bare skin (hopefully, I was careful and didn’t burn), or how many wonderful people I met and with whom I hope to stay in touch, future posts, beginning with tomorrow’s will.

      And, of course, if things go according to my expectations as I write this on Friday, 2/7, I’ll have a ton of photos that I haven’t published. Of course, given the opportunity to do so, you can bet I posted and shared while on the trip. 

      I also want to thank the folks who helped make this all possible:

• Corina Cantu for her Holland America connection and assistance in getting this trip scheduled.
• Cece Ryan for staying in my home and caring for Karma, Kaizer, Zooey and Mabel...I hope they behaved for her.
• Haley Karlberg for taking over the last couple days because of Cece's previous commitments. 
• Kim Nashif for loaning me necessities I didn't know I needed.
• Becky Sander for sharing her vast experience about cruising.
• Family and friends who encouraged me to go and reassured me over and over that I'd have a wonderful time.
• And, anyone else I may have forgotten to thank here.

         Tomorrow, Sunday, 2/16, my post will be later than the usual 8:00 am time. It’s my hope to have prepared something on my I-pad to post on that day. Something that has photos, raves about manta rays and dolphins, the ship and the people, the food and the fun…let’s face it, I hope to rave about every single thing. 

        My first post home may be a long one which I hope you will enjoy. And, I sincerely hope you’ve enjoyed the posts I prepared and scheduled before I left. I also hope you made lots of comments about those posts...I look forward to reading them.

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!!

            It’s cupid’s day and I sincerely hope everyone who reads this has someone who will give them a hug, kiss, card, candy, dinner, or some fun event in recognition of not only the day but your importance to him or her. May you join him or her in celebrating your relationship.

           I want to share with you how important it is to reach out to the people in your life that you care about. It’s so easy to get caught up in the day-to-day life challenges, whether good or bad (especially the bad), and forget that one person who would leave a huge hole in your life if they were gone for good. True, you eventually become accustomed to that huge hole, or so I’m told. Meanwhile, that large empty space in my life is being filled with lots of regrets, none of which I can remedy in any way.

          As you read yesterday, John and I were each other’s early Valentines. We remained that for many decades, but I now wish I could go back at least five years, maybe more, and ignore the damaging challenges we faced and celebrate the ones we conquered. We mastered many trials and tribulations but John’s health and my impatience left no room for celebration during those last years.

          Our 50^th wedding anniversary is a perfect example of my making the wrong choice. I didn’t want it to be recognized with a party, family event or any kind of celebration. I did buy John a 50^th anniversary card; and we did go out to dinner, but it wasn’t the kind of celebration that event really warranted. With one exception, out of all the friends we had in the beginning, John and I were the only ones to remain married. All the rest divorced; and while we had problems, we hung in there. We should have celebrated for at least a week and invited everyone we’d ever known and each and every family member. We should have stood together and accepted the accolades we so richly deserved. We didn’t and now instead of a wonderful celebration to remember and cherish, I only have regrets.

          John didn’t fail when it came to that anniversary. He bought me a gold wedding band and had it engraved 1966-2016. He remained a romantic through the years, something I didn’t appreciate at the time. In fact, we had an argument not long after the 50^th, and he made me so mad with whatever his comment was about the ring, I took it off and threw it at him. I didn’t see it again until after he died. I found it on top of his dresser. I now wish I had been more patient and understanding, far less irritated; and, let’s face it, just plain unpleasant and miserable. I've worn that ring a lot since I found it last August. When I look at it, I do remember the wonderful things in our marriage it represents, but I also am so very sorry I cannot share those memories with John now.

          My Valentine wish for each and every person reading this blog is that you stop, look at your partner and think about what you cherish most. Let the impatience, frustration, annoyances and anything negative recede to the background…you can always pick it up tomorrow. For today, Cupid’s Day, hug, kiss, appreciate and care for each other as though he or she will be gone tomorrow. You won’t have any regrets…trust me. 

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY EARLY

          This evening, about 7:00 pm, will be the 55^th anniversary of when John and I met. A woman I worked invited me to dinner so I could meet a friend of her husband. My daddy dropped me off at their house. My feelings were kinda soso because it seemed like the guys I’d been dating for the last while had all been such losers…buy you dinner, take you dancing, whatever; and they wanted payment at the end of the evening. I lived with my parents and was never willing to go to wherever my date suggested we go. I didn’t expect this “date” to go anywhere either.

          When the door was opened, I bent down to keep the dog from leaping and snagging my nylons. Yes, this was ages ago when a woman wore nylons, a girdle, and nice clothes (in my case a blue and white sweater and blue wool skirt) when going out. My eyes began at John’s feet and travelled upward. Nice shoes, khaki slacks, belt, a crisp, patterned short-sleeved shirt. And, then his face, a very nice smile and those eyes…WOW, was all I could think. Don’t know about John, but for me, I think it was love at first site.

          We had dinner and played a card game. When the evening was over, John drove me home. We sat in his car and necked for the longest time. He was the very best kisser, and I think if he’d suggested going to his house, I just might have gone, I was that in love…and maybe lust.

          The next day I was in a tizzy. I waited and waited for him to call and he didn’t. I was sure I’d been too “easy” the night before with all that necking. My mom and grandma had indoctrinated me on how boys want just one thing and that an “easy” girl won’t be called on again. I really liked this guy. I was really attracted to this guy. I wanted him to call and jumped every time the phone rang.

          Just about dinner time, John did finally call. Would I like to go back to our friends and play cards again that night? Boy, would I. And, that was the beginning.

          Over the next few weeks, we talked often on the phone and saw each other as much as possible. One subject we talked about and agreed on was neither of us was looking for a permanent relationship. We just wanted someone to have fun with. In an effort to keep us from becoming too serious, on Friday nights we each did something with other people…Saturday nights were our date night.

          Regardless of our conversations, John showed up at my house with one single long-stemmed red rose to commemorate the occasion of our dating for one-month (3/13). The next month, John showed up with two long-stemmed red roses. He also began to be a bit surly on our Saturday night dates. It took me a couple of times to realize it was because he didn’t like the idea of my going out on Friday nights without him. The third monthaversary, John brought me three red carnations…roses were getting too expensive. That was also the point at which I told him I wouldn’t go out on Friday nights anymore.

          I won’t tell you how long it was before we consummated our relationship. Initially, it was disappointing, but it didn’t take long before we were both enjoying these wonderful interludes. Since I was still living at home and he lived with his mom, we had to become creative in our efforts to be together. Thank heavens for blankets, darkness and Seattle’s many many parks. Thank heavens too for being so young our bodies were supple and being together in John’s car was also one of our chosen, but not exactly favorite places.

          Toward the end of that summer, my daddy accepted a job out of town and so I either had to find an apartment or move with them. I couldn’t leave John. I couldn’t leave my job. I found an apartment within walking distance of my job in Fremont. Being together was no longer a problem. John didn’t move in, but he spent most weekends with me.

          Funny story here. John had lots of friends. Most of those friends didn’t have girlfriends or wives. They all knew where John was, but do you think they would come by my apartment or phone there?  Nope, they’d call John’s mothers and leave messages…after all, we were sinning. When we were married the following year, they showed up the day we arrived home and never really left until they had wives of their own. I basically became their den mother once we were legal.

          It was also toward the end of summer when marriage came up. Not in the way it usually does with a ring and the asker on his knee. Nope, I was in John’s bedroom waiting for him to change his shoes or something. I was looking (snooping) through his bookcase which held a coffee can over half-full of pennies.

          “What are you saving all these pennies for?” I asked.

          “For rings,” he responded.

          “Rings, I thought you just put rings in your car. How often do you have to do that anyway?”

          At that point, John pointed to his ring finger and said, “No, this kind of ring.”

          I guess that was his way of asking me to marry him because he never actually asked “the” question.

          We referred to each other as our “early Valentine’s” during the ensuing years and never actually celebrated Valentine’s Day. We gave each other cards and gifts and candy on February 13^th. It was our special day.

          This year before I left on this cruise, I went to See’s and bought myself what John always bought or ordered for me…a box of dark chocolates. Tonight, I’ll sit myself on my verandah with my open box of chocolates and let my memory loose to remember some of the wonderful times we experienced together in the beginning. I look forward to sharing more of those memories with you.

FRIENDSHIP

           Friendship is quite possibly one of the most important factors in a human’s life., especially long-term friendships. I had one. It began in junior high school. We didn’t live far apart and walked to and from school together. I told her all my secrets, ideas, wishes, plans and she did the same to me. Our friendship lasted for decades and then ended abruptly and painfully.

          We helped each other through troubling times. She got pregnant the last month of our senior year of high school, and the asshole wouldn’t even take her to the senior prom. She decided to keep her daughter. I got pregnant later that same year and made the choice to give my daughter up for adoption.

          We were maids of honor at each other’s weddings. We watched our children grow up together. We celebrated birthdays and anniversaries. I thought this was a friendship that would never end. I was wrong.

          Over the decades, I watched as my friend had put her needs/wants before that of her family and/or children. For some reason, I thought I was exempt from such treason. I was wrong. When it happened, I couldn’t believe that she would put someone/something else above our friendship. But, there it was…I was in second or even last place.

          For the remainder of my life, I have tried to understand how she could have thrown me and our long-term friendship away as if it were a used Kleenex. I tried to talk to her, but my thoughts/feelings didn’t matter. Even, years later when I reached out, she didn’t reach back.

          Over time, I would see her here and there and always made a point of stopping and talking to her. I guess I kept hoping she’d tell me she missed me as much as I missed her. That never happened; and while we apparently live on the opposite sides of a hill, it isn’t likely we will meet up again to talk about anything important in our lives, either back then or today…I’m not even sure she knows John died.

          I have to tell you this was undoubtedly the most painful experience I’ve ever had. How do you let go of a friend/friendship that’s lasted for decades? How do you let go of your friend’s children, their futures, their happiness when you’ve been on the ground floor, so to speak, since almost conception? I don’t have an answer for those questions. I only know I still miss the history, the connection, the future we could have had together.

          Yes, I do have long-term friends now. None of them knew me when I was in junior high school. None of them knew me when I was pregnant with a child I knew I couldn’t keep. None of them knew me in the early years of my marriage or during the early years of being a mom, of working outside the home, of marital problems. Only this woman knew me from what was almost the beginning of me.

          I regret she no longer is a part of my life. What would she have offered at John’s death, at my efforts to begin anew with just me, myself and I? I have no idea because it’s been so long since we shared anything at all. What I do remember is the friends I have now, the ones that have supported me through the difficult years of John’s illness, the time following his death, the future plans I’ve made and am making. I am so thankful for these women (and men), for their shoulders, words of comfort and encouragement, presence in my life when I’ve needed someone, their love and support, their just being there. True, I still miss the woman who held the prime position for more than 40 years, but I wouldn’t trade her for a single one of the women who inhabit my world today.

          I offer my deepest appreciation, friendship and undying love for the women who inhabit my life today. I sincerely doubt a single one of them would ever leave me feeling as though a very sharp knife were protruding from my shoulder blades, but then I didn’t expect it from her either.

None of the women in my life may have any idea of how valuable their participation in my life is to me. As the Mastercard commercial says, PRICELESS. Bless each of you. Thank each of you for your love, support, caring and participation in my life. My only hope that I can provide reciprocity to each of you as needed or desired.

TO DOWNSIZE OR NOT???

          In previous posts, I believe I’ve mentioned that I’ve lived in this house for almost 51 years. We raised our two sons here. We hosted innumerable Thanksgivings, Christmases, Christmas Eves, Easters, July 4^th, Memorial and Labor Day potlucks, and, of course, birthday parties for the boys and each other and extended family.

          John and I married in 1966 and initially lived in an apartment. The friends who introduced us, told us about a house in Ballard that was for rent. We took a look and rented this little two-bedroom home with a separate garage on 32^nd Northwest. I always said we lived on the wrong side of the white line because across the street were the estates that looked out over Golden Gardens. The one across from us even had peacocks and initially, their calls were mystifying. 

          Our rent was a whole $92 per month and included some utilities. Still, it was $92 a month that wasn’t gaining us any equity. I kept pestering John about buying a house and he kept resisting. Finally, he told me to go look and gave me a list of what this house had to have:

1.     Under $20,000,

2.    All one floor,

3.    Nice neighborhood,

and I don’t remember what else. So, the real estate agent took me out and about and every now and then there would be one for John to see. He didn’t like any of them and whenever the agent stopped at a split level, John refused to get out of the car…one level, he said.

          I think the agent was losing patience with us, because one day he mentioned he had exactly what we were looking for, but it was a little more money. He brought us to this house. It was empty and he explained the man who’d bought it had to return to California because of allergies. So, he was making two house payments. And, the neighborhood was perfect. Not a single bike or toy or messy yard to be seen anywhere. The joke was on us though because once we moved in, we counted 68 kids in the four cul-de-sacs. At least their parents made them keep things tidy.

We offered some cash and to assume the loan on this house.  It was accepted and suddenly, in less than a month, we were homeowners. The first year was difficult because we went from $92 per month rent to $211 per month mortgage plus all the utilities. Previously, if we were both too tired to cook, we’d eat out, plus we had an entertainment budet. Now, no matter how tired, we cooked and ate in. We had to watch our pennies quite closely. We made it though, obviously since I’m still here.

          Now, it’s just me, and I’ve had some people ask if I was going to sell the house anytime soon. At the moment, I have no intention of putting it on the market. I know all the neighbors and they know me. If I’m in need, I can call on one of them. And, the memories…well, the memories abound. Every single room can bring up some thought or memory of a time gone by. Some make me sad, but most make me smile in remembrance. 

          I love working in the garden and making things grow and bloom. I love watching the birds and chicken out the windows. I love the way neighbors will stop when I’m mucking about out front. Right now, I don’t really see how I could possibly give up living here.

          Times will change though, I know that. Eventually, my garden will become too much for me. Eventually the upkeep will cost me too much in the way of ability, energy and or money. I seriously hope that doesn’t happen for many years to come, but you never know what tomorrow will bring. Meanwhile, I’ll enjoy my memories and everything else that makes me feel good and positive about remaining here. 

          What about those of you in my position? Do you look forward to downsizing to something easier to care for? Will you regret saying goodby the home you’ve had for so long? Or, have you already moved on? How did that work out? I’d love to know.

CARPENTER, CONTRACTOR...HANDYMAN

How many of you watch HGTV, in particular Fixer Upper? I love that show and discovered it only last spring when I couldn’t do anything because of my shoulder surgery. I imagine John and I could have done something like that if only he’d been interested.

          John’s grandfather was a contractor, and at some point in time, John worked for him. John even inherited a bunch of Grandpa Hansen’s tools, all of which lack any sort of safety features whatsoever. John’s grandpa taught him everything he knew, and when John gave up truck driving as a career, he became a contractor.

          Actually, he was more of a handyman, but he felt that title was demeaning and told me to either call him a carpenter or a contractor. The fact of the matter was he could do it all. You need plumbing, John was your man. You need electrical work, John was your man. You need carpentry work, John was your man. He even did design work and drew up plans when required. I’m sure you can see why I thought that at some point we’d find some property and build our own house.

          That never happened, and I must tell you that if you came to visit and took a serious look around my house, you would not have hired John to do anything for you at all. I know they say electricians have extension cords, shoemaker’s children go barefoot, etc., but when it comes to your own home, I always thought that’s where you should/could do your best work.

          Instead, I heard from his clients all about the wonderful work he did in their homes. In some cases, I even saw the results…wallboard smooth with no cracks or nail holes, perfect finish work and so on. His 20-plus career as a “contractor” kept him busy and paid bills without his ever advertising once. Most of his clients were older women whose husbands had died or become unable to do much around the home. So, Mary told Susan who told Marcy, who told Edna, who told Mrs. Smith, who told Mrs. Pond and so on for all those years. I seriously believe that at one point if every single woman over the age of 65 had died en masse, we would have starved.

          Now, I’m older than some of those women were back then, and I have a “handyman” of my own. I hired him a couple of years ago to redo part of the deck. He’s done a few other things for me, and I hope to hire him for additional work later this spring. The last time I contacted him, his wait list was very long, so perhaps I ought to call him now and at least get on the bottom of the list.

          In any case, the whole point of this post is, I guess, that there comes a time when some dreams have to be put aside because they’ll never happen. I’ll never help design a home with a roof that lasts forever, hot water tank in the bathroom so I don’t have to wait forever for the hot water to arrive, and with as many time-saving and environmentally saving attributes as possible. My dream of building my own little home has been scratched off the list. Instead, I’ll just keep watching Fixer Upper and envying Joanna Gaines.

SUPERMOON IN THE CARIBBEAN

        

My calendar is marked for tonight. There is supposed to be a SUPERMOON. I don’t and can’t know for sure, but I imagine it will be unbelievable seen from the ship in the Caribbean. I had to look it up and the definition said:

        A supermoon is a full moon or a new moon that nearly coincides with perigee--the closest that the moon comes to the earth in its elliptic orbit--resulting in a slightly larger-than-usual apparent size of the lunar disk as viewed from earth. 

        Something else I'm hoping to see which I've never seen, or at least haven't seen in a very long time, and that's the Milky Way Galaxy up in the heavens...like where would it be...really, sometimes I amaze myself. (That's sarcasm directed at moi in case you didn't get it.)

        Of course, since it's only the second day of my cruise, I won't be able to tell you all about it because I won't have internet access or a way to type a new post. You'll just have to wait until I return to read my exclamatory comments.

        Meanwhile, feel free to imagine me at the bow of the ship, a la Rose in Titanic, looking heavenward toward the moon and the stars. Of course, depending on where my stateroom is, you could also imagine me on  my verandah looking up.