Had you waiting with bated breath, didn't I? You were wondering when I was going to let you know whether the Golden Men made it home in one piece? (Almost called them "Golden boys," but now that Elliott is Mitzvah'ed, guess that's over).
Well, after K's news about the wedding being the NEXT morning, all I could think about is finding a clean outfit to wear. Luckily, a stop at a thrift store while traveling in South Carolina netted me a seven-dollar dress that would be perfect.
My daughter picked me up and off we went to a non-descript townhome near us. Officiant Amy (not my daughter) performed a simple ceremony and in a matter of minutes, my son was a married man. Only a few folks attended as this was merely a "sign the paper" ceremony, but it was a joyful experience nonetheless. No honeymoon, no wedding breakfast--they both had to go to work in a few hours. Many hugs and kisses later, we were on our way and they were heading into a new sunrise.
Before my husband set out on the cruise, he had rented a satellite phone so that at least a little communication could take place during the sail northward. After many tests, the calling capability seemed a little fuzzy, but a Twitter account set up for the trip was most useful and worked well to keep those of us on land from worrying too much. I lent my son my lucky blue hat and a special puka shell necklace to keep him safe.
They set sail on a grey Monday morning from Sailfish Marina in Palm Beach Shores and arrived on Friday morning in Cobb Island. Except for a 45-minute bout of craziness in which the whisker pole was destroyed by wonky winds, the cruise went fairly well. The boat we purchased is a 2000, so it has some quirks and problems. The autopilot worked for 18 hours and then quit, which made for long nights of hard steering, until, for no known reason, it started working again. They grilled out off the back of the boat and had decent meals. They motored more than my husband probably would have liked, but being under time constraints lit a fire under him.
I am glad to say that I cured him of the no motoring ideal in sailing; we would take forever sometimes to get back from a sail, so that it would be early morning. Finally, I put my foot down and almost in tears, told him he absolutely HAD to use the engine or I would never set that put-down foot on board again.
When I heard that they would be arriving at least by dawn's light on Saturday morning, I couldn't just sit at the house. I packed a few things, rounded up the dog, and drove the camper to the island and parked in front of the general store waiting to get word that Nalani had docked. I was antsy, so I walked out to the dock looking into the sound for lights that might signal their arrival. Disappointed each time. Felt connected to the women of the world who would wait for their men to return from the sea. I finally turned in just to relax a bit. I must have fallen asleep because a text signal woke me. They were here early!
Tucked my hair up under my lucky pink cap and leashed the dog and walked across the street and down the dock to welcome them home. I was very happy to see them and already was looking at my youngest son in a different light. As I went below, I was expecting mayhem and chaos, I mean, really, five GUYS on a boat for a WEEK? But, surprisingly, things seemed orderly and neat. A few of us went over to the bar and had a celebratory beer, but the karaoke was so bad we had to leave. I know, but it was really awful.
After a little sleep and some breakfast, we worked to get the boat cleaned and bag packed before M's family arrived. Gary's mom arrived and more stories and hugs. We all went to lunch at the local crab house and spent a few last hours enjoying each others' company until we parted.
I am thankful to my husband for doing his homework, over and over again, to get as much done before our trip and during the first week on the boat to make Nalani shipshape for the voyage. I was not worried about my husband so much, but turning over my son to the elements for a week was a little nerve-wracking. Having his grandfather and two of his dad's best friends along for the ride made it all that much better. When I talked to my father-in-law after the trip, I asked him how he did and he said he realized that he will no longer be so good on off-shore passages. He felt clumsy and actually got queasy (seasickness had never hit him ever before in his long sailing career). I feel for him; I feel clumsy every time I'm out sailing, though. In a proverbial passing of the torch now that he is in his 70s, he also remarked that he was very happy that Gary was now the Captain.
(So, the craziest two weeks of time ever, for us, anyway. Yes, that was only two weeks. The rest of the month was not quite as eventful, though we do always stay busy. Another house concert (Jon Shain--check him out), a get together with the intended baby's paternal grandparents and great-grandmother (very emotional, but we hope enough to set their minds at ease), and plans for traveling in May.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
You're Getting Married? Tomorrow?
D and I sat out on her back porch and talked a little while before breakfast. She and her husband are living on property that's been in the family for generations. It is lovely and my friend has a green thumb and it is already showing even though they haven't been there that long. After a wonderful breakfast of fried potatoes and eggs and many hugs, E and I set out on the last part of our journey. Heading for home; yay!
At some point during the day, I got a phone call from my oldest son. He had some news for me. He and his fiancee would be getting married in the morning. What? Whoa. That's awesome. Laughter. I was jumping up and down. E wanted to see him to congratulate him in person, so we decided that when we got to town, we'd swing by his place of employment and visit for a few minutes. He said he had something for me anyway, so a visit would be good.
Driving, driving, driving. Not a quiet moment, but I tuned it out because all I could think about was the marriage--it was to be a quick JP thing, with possibly a "real" ceremony some time down the road. I didn't even ask why; maybe I was in shock. Ha.
That part of the drive seemed the longest and I think E read every single road sign, every single side of any 18-wheeler that passed us, and talked about most of the cars on the highway, but we finally rolled into Fredericksburg and parked in front of the shop where my son is a tattoo artist. He came out to greet us and both E and I gave him big congrats hugs. Then he says he has to get the something he wanted to give me, so he went back inside. After a few minutes, he comes back out and hands me three photos of a cute baby. What? He said something like, "This is going to be your grandchild." I didn't get it and replied, "What? D is pregnant?" "No," he said, "This baby is going to be your grandchild. We got married earlier so that we could adopt her."
Just the thought of a cute puppy or those sappy telephone commercials gets me tearing up, so of course, I start blubbering like a baby. As I sit here typing this, I am reliving those moments and still can't believe it. K's wife has a cousin who has had the baby girl and realizes that she and her husband (both quite young) won't be able to take care of the baby, so K and D have said they would love to give her a home with them.
Now, I'll tell you, two years ago, my son said he would never own a home and wasn't sure about kids. Today, he owns a home and will hopefully soon be holding this sweet child in his arms as his daughter.
I remember once being asked by a former boss of mine about how to raise a son. I said the words before I really formulated the thought, but I told him, "Raise him to be someone you would want to know as an adult."
I've had moments as a mother (and a person) that I wish I could do over, but if my life were to be judged only on how my children have turned out, then I would be supremely happy with that legacy.
So this new chapter of family has opened with a bang and a beautiful one at that. I love seeing my son's hand and seeing a wedding ring there. I love the tenderness with which my daughter holds her son as he nurses until sleep overtakes him. Hearing my daughter-in-law (how I love writing that) say how lucky she is to have K in her life makes me smile and smile. Knowing that my son-in-law can build and grow anything makes me hopeful for the future.
For now, we wait until all the papers get signed and agreements made. Hearts will be broken, but hopefully those breaks will be sealed with the knowledge that a baby will be making her presence known as a part of an expanding family, not a shrinking one. We will welcome her with all the love we can muster, though we're already in love with her even before our first touches.
NEXT: s/v Nalani is Home!
At some point during the day, I got a phone call from my oldest son. He had some news for me. He and his fiancee would be getting married in the morning. What? Whoa. That's awesome. Laughter. I was jumping up and down. E wanted to see him to congratulate him in person, so we decided that when we got to town, we'd swing by his place of employment and visit for a few minutes. He said he had something for me anyway, so a visit would be good.
Driving, driving, driving. Not a quiet moment, but I tuned it out because all I could think about was the marriage--it was to be a quick JP thing, with possibly a "real" ceremony some time down the road. I didn't even ask why; maybe I was in shock. Ha.
That part of the drive seemed the longest and I think E read every single road sign, every single side of any 18-wheeler that passed us, and talked about most of the cars on the highway, but we finally rolled into Fredericksburg and parked in front of the shop where my son is a tattoo artist. He came out to greet us and both E and I gave him big congrats hugs. Then he says he has to get the something he wanted to give me, so he went back inside. After a few minutes, he comes back out and hands me three photos of a cute baby. What? He said something like, "This is going to be your grandchild." I didn't get it and replied, "What? D is pregnant?" "No," he said, "This baby is going to be your grandchild. We got married earlier so that we could adopt her."
Just the thought of a cute puppy or those sappy telephone commercials gets me tearing up, so of course, I start blubbering like a baby. As I sit here typing this, I am reliving those moments and still can't believe it. K's wife has a cousin who has had the baby girl and realizes that she and her husband (both quite young) won't be able to take care of the baby, so K and D have said they would love to give her a home with them.
Now, I'll tell you, two years ago, my son said he would never own a home and wasn't sure about kids. Today, he owns a home and will hopefully soon be holding this sweet child in his arms as his daughter.
I remember once being asked by a former boss of mine about how to raise a son. I said the words before I really formulated the thought, but I told him, "Raise him to be someone you would want to know as an adult."
I've had moments as a mother (and a person) that I wish I could do over, but if my life were to be judged only on how my children have turned out, then I would be supremely happy with that legacy.
So this new chapter of family has opened with a bang and a beautiful one at that. I love seeing my son's hand and seeing a wedding ring there. I love the tenderness with which my daughter holds her son as he nurses until sleep overtakes him. Hearing my daughter-in-law (how I love writing that) say how lucky she is to have K in her life makes me smile and smile. Knowing that my son-in-law can build and grow anything makes me hopeful for the future.
For now, we wait until all the papers get signed and agreements made. Hearts will be broken, but hopefully those breaks will be sealed with the knowledge that a baby will be making her presence known as a part of an expanding family, not a shrinking one. We will welcome her with all the love we can muster, though we're already in love with her even before our first touches.
NEXT: s/v Nalani is Home!
Sunrise?
Yeah, for those of you who know me well, sunrise and my viewing it is not a common thing. In the old days, I would see it from the other side. Intentionally waking up and functioning before dawn rarely happens.
But, I have found a surefire way to make sure that I do get up early. Sleeping on an uncomfortable one-inch pad on the floor of a camper surely does it for me. With a crick in my neck and sleep in the eyes, I woke as it was still dark, knowing I did not have much time to get the photos I wanted. I moved slowly and quietly, grabbed my camera, and made my way down to the docks.
A cool morning dew wetted my feet, but the fog was rolling out making way for a glorious sunrise.
The colors were brilliant that morning and one lone sailboat made its way out of the marina and headed east into the sun as I snapped photo after photo. Water birds called out to each other and fish jumped into the air as a brief respite from their watery homes. I was mesmerized.
I felt good and alive and really present in the moment, even though I was taking photos, which can sometimes remove you, but not this time, not in all this beauty and life.
We were not in a huge rush to leave the marina that morning as Charleston was only a stone's throw away, so we hung out, showered, and had breakfast in their little cafe. Cute place with a homey, country feel. Nice owner. Lovely view. Great food.
I was excited about getting to Charleston, not necessarily about seeing the downtown, which I know like the back of my hand, but about eating. Charleston is known not only for its beautiful homes, stories of war and southern families, but it is a mecca for foodies. When I first visited years ago, I discovered a lovely little restaurant on the main drag. I tend to stay away from chains when I'm traveling because if I wanted chain food, I may as well stay home. Stumbling upon Jestine's was like finding gold or finding the needle in the haystack. Trips have been built around a visit to Jestine's; one time, coming back from the Keys, we realized we would be in Charleston on a Monday. Oh no! Monday? But Jestine's isn't open on a Monday. Well, you know, we stayed an extra day to get lunch on Tuesday. Gotta do what a foodie's gotta do.
So, if you've ever been to Jestine's, you know there is almost always a line outside. Today, it was not too long and the hostess (whom I recognized from other visits) got our name and number and we waited. Within seconds, E had struck up a conversation with a couple standing behind us. They heard the 70s boat story and the new story (yay!) that Gary and I had just purchased a new boat. We talked about the camper (the guy said to hold onto it as they don't make them anymore). I was glad to see some diverse subjects coming up; it was good. When we got seated, the small treasure of bread-and-butter pickles was brought to the table as we ordered our drinks (sweet tea, for me, thank you very much). I think E got a peanut butter and banana sandwich and I ordered the pecan-crusted chicken breast (oh my!) with coconut cream pie for dessert. Hands down, Jestine's make the best pie ever!!!! After reluctantly leaving (I really love that place--I want to marry it), we walked around town. E saw an ice cream store and had to have an ice cream. It was that way in Savannah, too. We went to the market where there are sellers of straw baskets and other goodies (the credit card story was quite popular there) and wandered aimlessly around the waterfront and down to the Battery and back.
We had been lucky to find a parking lot across from the Visitor's Center where we could park the RV all day long so we didn't have to worry about getting on the road too early, though I was kind of hoping to make it back that evening. Didn't work out, but that was okay, because a sweet visit was on our horizon.
During our walk around town, E saw a sign on the back of a bus and said that was what she was. I looked over and saw, "Schizophrenia. Bi-Polar." I said that I could believe she was bi-polar, but schizophrenic? No way. Then she changed her mind and said that she wasn't either. Too many questions, but I remained silent. I did a little research later and it could very well be that she was both, based on my experience with her. Tough diagnosis.
I was pretty worn out from all the walking by the time we got back on the road, but figured we could drive up the coast and stop in any beach town that evening until I got too tired to drive. At that point, I checked my social network and a friend asked whether we were coming up I-95 because her house was only about a mile in from the highway and we could stay in her driveway for the night. I had not originally thought to go that way, but with that offer and the chance to see her again, I couldn't resist. As we were going out of town, I mentioned that I had a massage coming up soon and that I was looking forward to it. E said she used to get massages, but could not remember her masseuse's name. I said that I sometimes start going down the alphabet to see if that might jog a name memory or look for a business card. She mentioned that it was probably in her address book. Well, trying to keep someone like E focused on a task is nearly impossible. She opened her address book and instead of scanning the pages for the name she wanted, she proceeded to tell me stories about every single entry, until, thankfully, two hours later, she found the masseuse's name and number.
Maybe I was just getting tired, but it was getting tiring. I was learning that you have to have a lot of respect for people who lived with and understood people with mental illnesses. It wears on you and it can make you grumpy. I just wanted to be home in my quiet house. All of a sudden, I felt very ill equipped to understand her. I have found in my conversations with E that she is very insecure. At the visitor's center earlier in the day, we were looking at an aerial photo of a plantation that had steppes carved into the massive front yard leading down to the water. E replied that she liked her little concrete steps just fine in her yard. Many conversations were this way; I could not compliment something or someone without her bringing it back to herself and her view of herself, as if she had to justify her life as it was or her situation. I never attempted to criticize, but she always took it as such. It could be someone's hair color or what they were wearing. I've seen that trait in others on that side of the family. It really clicked that day how strong it was.
Pulling into my friend's driveway later that evening was such a blessing. My friend D and I have been friends since 9th grade. She taught me how to talk Martian and to write backwards and these incredibly important skills I have taught my own kids and hope they do also with their offspring. We've not been super close all these years, but we've seen more and more of each other lately and I tell you, she and her husband make me laugh until I pee my pants. (I'm glad I packed extra panties.)
We went inside and sat down and talked and talked; E retired to the camper. D said the house would be locked, but we'd see her in the morning. I came in about an hour later and E was sound asleep. Again, I was a little worried about her getting up and stepping on me during the night if she walked into the woods to pee, but I did not have to worry. Sometime in the night, I woke up to the sound of liquid hitting styrofoam and could barely see the outline of E standing at the foot of my mat. I went back to sleep, but woke up early and found a styrofoam cup of urine standing full on the counter in the camper. I think I'm signing E up for Survivor. I never mentioned to her that I had disposed of the cup and its contents. She cracks me up, but I've got her back, literally.
NEXT: You're Getting Married?
But, I have found a surefire way to make sure that I do get up early. Sleeping on an uncomfortable one-inch pad on the floor of a camper surely does it for me. With a crick in my neck and sleep in the eyes, I woke as it was still dark, knowing I did not have much time to get the photos I wanted. I moved slowly and quietly, grabbed my camera, and made my way down to the docks.
A cool morning dew wetted my feet, but the fog was rolling out making way for a glorious sunrise.
The colors were brilliant that morning and one lone sailboat made its way out of the marina and headed east into the sun as I snapped photo after photo. Water birds called out to each other and fish jumped into the air as a brief respite from their watery homes. I was mesmerized.
I felt good and alive and really present in the moment, even though I was taking photos, which can sometimes remove you, but not this time, not in all this beauty and life.
We were not in a huge rush to leave the marina that morning as Charleston was only a stone's throw away, so we hung out, showered, and had breakfast in their little cafe. Cute place with a homey, country feel. Nice owner. Lovely view. Great food.
I was excited about getting to Charleston, not necessarily about seeing the downtown, which I know like the back of my hand, but about eating. Charleston is known not only for its beautiful homes, stories of war and southern families, but it is a mecca for foodies. When I first visited years ago, I discovered a lovely little restaurant on the main drag. I tend to stay away from chains when I'm traveling because if I wanted chain food, I may as well stay home. Stumbling upon Jestine's was like finding gold or finding the needle in the haystack. Trips have been built around a visit to Jestine's; one time, coming back from the Keys, we realized we would be in Charleston on a Monday. Oh no! Monday? But Jestine's isn't open on a Monday. Well, you know, we stayed an extra day to get lunch on Tuesday. Gotta do what a foodie's gotta do.
So, if you've ever been to Jestine's, you know there is almost always a line outside. Today, it was not too long and the hostess (whom I recognized from other visits) got our name and number and we waited. Within seconds, E had struck up a conversation with a couple standing behind us. They heard the 70s boat story and the new story (yay!) that Gary and I had just purchased a new boat. We talked about the camper (the guy said to hold onto it as they don't make them anymore). I was glad to see some diverse subjects coming up; it was good. When we got seated, the small treasure of bread-and-butter pickles was brought to the table as we ordered our drinks (sweet tea, for me, thank you very much). I think E got a peanut butter and banana sandwich and I ordered the pecan-crusted chicken breast (oh my!) with coconut cream pie for dessert. Hands down, Jestine's make the best pie ever!!!! After reluctantly leaving (I really love that place--I want to marry it), we walked around town. E saw an ice cream store and had to have an ice cream. It was that way in Savannah, too. We went to the market where there are sellers of straw baskets and other goodies (the credit card story was quite popular there) and wandered aimlessly around the waterfront and down to the Battery and back.
We had been lucky to find a parking lot across from the Visitor's Center where we could park the RV all day long so we didn't have to worry about getting on the road too early, though I was kind of hoping to make it back that evening. Didn't work out, but that was okay, because a sweet visit was on our horizon.
During our walk around town, E saw a sign on the back of a bus and said that was what she was. I looked over and saw, "Schizophrenia. Bi-Polar." I said that I could believe she was bi-polar, but schizophrenic? No way. Then she changed her mind and said that she wasn't either. Too many questions, but I remained silent. I did a little research later and it could very well be that she was both, based on my experience with her. Tough diagnosis.
I was pretty worn out from all the walking by the time we got back on the road, but figured we could drive up the coast and stop in any beach town that evening until I got too tired to drive. At that point, I checked my social network and a friend asked whether we were coming up I-95 because her house was only about a mile in from the highway and we could stay in her driveway for the night. I had not originally thought to go that way, but with that offer and the chance to see her again, I couldn't resist. As we were going out of town, I mentioned that I had a massage coming up soon and that I was looking forward to it. E said she used to get massages, but could not remember her masseuse's name. I said that I sometimes start going down the alphabet to see if that might jog a name memory or look for a business card. She mentioned that it was probably in her address book. Well, trying to keep someone like E focused on a task is nearly impossible. She opened her address book and instead of scanning the pages for the name she wanted, she proceeded to tell me stories about every single entry, until, thankfully, two hours later, she found the masseuse's name and number.
Maybe I was just getting tired, but it was getting tiring. I was learning that you have to have a lot of respect for people who lived with and understood people with mental illnesses. It wears on you and it can make you grumpy. I just wanted to be home in my quiet house. All of a sudden, I felt very ill equipped to understand her. I have found in my conversations with E that she is very insecure. At the visitor's center earlier in the day, we were looking at an aerial photo of a plantation that had steppes carved into the massive front yard leading down to the water. E replied that she liked her little concrete steps just fine in her yard. Many conversations were this way; I could not compliment something or someone without her bringing it back to herself and her view of herself, as if she had to justify her life as it was or her situation. I never attempted to criticize, but she always took it as such. It could be someone's hair color or what they were wearing. I've seen that trait in others on that side of the family. It really clicked that day how strong it was.
Pulling into my friend's driveway later that evening was such a blessing. My friend D and I have been friends since 9th grade. She taught me how to talk Martian and to write backwards and these incredibly important skills I have taught my own kids and hope they do also with their offspring. We've not been super close all these years, but we've seen more and more of each other lately and I tell you, she and her husband make me laugh until I pee my pants. (I'm glad I packed extra panties.)
We went inside and sat down and talked and talked; E retired to the camper. D said the house would be locked, but we'd see her in the morning. I came in about an hour later and E was sound asleep. Again, I was a little worried about her getting up and stepping on me during the night if she walked into the woods to pee, but I did not have to worry. Sometime in the night, I woke up to the sound of liquid hitting styrofoam and could barely see the outline of E standing at the foot of my mat. I went back to sleep, but woke up early and found a styrofoam cup of urine standing full on the counter in the camper. I think I'm signing E up for Survivor. I never mentioned to her that I had disposed of the cup and its contents. She cracks me up, but I've got her back, literally.
NEXT: You're Getting Married?
Monday, April 29, 2013
Traveling with the Mother-in-Law
When we were making plans for this trip, I was originally going to travel home by myself, meandering through my favorite Southern towns, and just taking my time to get home. The boys were expected to take a week to bring the boat from Florida to the Chesapeake, so I had the time to dawdle if I wanted.
Plans changed several times and eventually the plan was for my mother-in-law to join me on the road.
Now, to tell you the truth, I was not overly excited and a little hesitant. My history with my mother-in-law (E) has been interesting in many respects. When I first met her, she seemed anxious, but not overly so. One day she had a breakdown and since then, it's been up and down with institutionalizations and drugs, lots of drugs.
So, flash forward twenty years (yes, it's been that long) and E's functioning fairly well, considering everything she's been through. As I've never gotten the name of what she is being drugged for, the only thing I was worried about was how to keep her on a schedule, dealing with her constant chatter, and keep her interested in things outside her realm. Before we made plans to do this trip, she said she would go anywhere I wanted to go and do anything I wanted to do. Made it a little easier on me, but I was still worried.
We started out that sunny Sunday in Florida and headed in the direction of Savannah, Georgia. My rough itinerary was the first day in Savannah, second in Charleston, and the third driving straight through or parking at some random Walmart overnight (I hate shopping at Walmarts, but I will take advantage of free camping spaces.)
I had decided early on in the planning to do all the driving; I'm not a good passenger and since E has a leadfoot (but only up to 12 miles over), I figured I'd head her off at the pass and leave the speeding up to me. Problem is, I do love sight-seeing, so I missed staring longingly out the window as we traveled. We talked of everything and nothing, some things she didn't like and would want to change the subject, even if she had brought the tough subject up herself. E has no filters; whatever she thinks, she has to say. Whether a compulsion or an effect of her medication, it can be unnerving, especially when dealing with strangers or being in a car with her for hours and hours. She does seem to keep to a script, though; it was interesting watching and listening through the days of her banter.
We stopped outside Savannah in a mostly African-American part of town to eat in a family-style restaurant. My mother-in-law had told me earlier that when she talked to people of color, she apologizes to them for slavery. In my head, I'm thinking, please please please don't do this in the restaurant. I then asked her whether anyone had come up to her, since she was Jewish, to apologize for the Holocaust and other pogroms. She said no. Thankfully, she did not mention slavery, though she did visit with a family near us and commented on a sweet little girl's outfit. It was church day and most of the people were dressed up while we came in with shorts and tank tops. After our meal, I made reservations at an awesome campground outside Savannah for the evening; when I called, the ranger said had been sold out, but someone was looking out for me and we were scheduled to stay in Skidaway Island State Park for the evening.
One of scripts E relies on has to do with a credit card she uses to pay for things; it is heavier than most and does not have the number on the front. Every purchase she made, she asked the cashier what it was that made that card different. She was always happy when they couldn't figure it out so that she could explain. I was happy that she was happy. Little victories.
When we stopped in Savannah to visit, I parked in an out-of-the-way location suggested by an FB friend (thanks) so as to avoid parking fees, but we did have a two-hour limit, which made me nervous. We walked by Paula Deen's restaurant and I was tempted to go in, but we wanted to do a horse-and-buggy tour and didn't want to miss the next meetup.
We ended up on a trolley because the horse dude was not there; a couple friends and I went there a few years ago, did the ride, and found out that our driver was going to the in the then-being-filmed "Lincoln" movie. Coolio! Alas, he was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he's a star in Hollywood now.
We made our way to the trolley office and signed up for the ride; as we were paying, the woman behind the glass (after hearing the heavy credit-card story) told us the trip lasted 1-1/2 hours. Yikes! We were going to be late getting back to the camper!!! Oh god, if it got towed, I'd be so bummed. I mentioned this to E and she said, "You always think negatively, don't you?" Hmm, she had me there, so I answered with my usual retort. "Not always, but I do consider myself a realist!" She soothed me, saying that everything was going to be okay. (She was right, of course.) It is very rare that anything bothers her.
So, her second script is about a family sailing trip that took place in the 1970s. They sold everything, bought a boat, and set sail with the kids. Sailed across the Atlantic and spent two years abroad. It was a huge deal then and is still a huge deal to her. So the nice folks we were sitting with while waiting for the trolley to show got the story and were very nice to talk to since they were boaters, too.
It was a very thorough tour of Savannah and I love that town. But we were getting tired and wanted to find the park and settle in for the evening. As we drove through the entrance to the park, it was like entering a magical forest. Live oaks, the moss hanging in the trees. Huge palms and other tropical greenery. As it was getting dark, we couldn't see much, but we finally found our space, got the electric set up and chilled out. I let her have the bed and I slept (as it were) on a mat on the floor. She warned me before we put the lights out that she'd probably have to get up several times during the night (as we women of a certain age are wont to do). I was okay, as long as she didn't step on me making her way to the close-by bathhouse.
Woke up the next morning and she had not moved; she slept and slept. When she finally woke up, she remarked that she can't remember ever sleeping straight through the night and so well and so deeply. I was glad as it sounded as if she really appreciated it.
Before heading out to Charleston, we took a nice long walk in a maritime forest. The tide was out, so we didn't see a lot of water, but there were old-growth forests and lots of birds. A beautiful day. She likes exercise, so I made sure she got plenty, though she did say she wished she were doing her usually scheduled bike-riding and Curves. It didn't hurt my feelings, really. It's the way she survives.
I had found out that a musician that I really like, Jack Williams, was going to be playing a house concert near Charleston that night, so I called the host and left a message. No answer; I left an email at his site. No answer. Well, I could find the place easily enough, so we'd just show up and see if we could get in. After checking out at the campground office ($28.00 for the night) and buying a few souvenirs, and the credit-card story was repeated again, we headed out. Driving, driving, driving. We were heading to Dataw Island for the show. As we made that last turn to the island, I realized that we were driving into a private gated community. Crap! All that way for nothing.
A kind-faced young security guard greeted us at the gate and I explained that we were there to attend a concert at the cannery. Did he know about it? No. Hmmmm. E suggested we just drive through and see if that musician was there. I explained to her that we were not allowed to enter without a pass. After mulling it over, I said out loud that we would go to dinner somewhere close by and continue trying to contact the concert host. At the word "dinner," our kind security guard perked up and mentioned, in passing, just in case, that the marina was open to the public and they had a very good restaurant and that maybe after our meal, we could just happen to wander by the cannery to see if we could make it in to the concert. Well, I'll tell you, as a broad smile brightened my face, I almost jumped out and hugged the guy. I did give him a nice squeezy-squeezy on the arm and told him how sweet it was that he thought of such a brilliant idea.
So we got our pass and as we were driving by the cannery, I saw Jack out on the porch changing his strings, as he always does before a concert. We swung around and went over to say hello. He was surprised to see us and when I explained how we ended up there and that I had not been able to contact the host, he had the bad news that the show was full for the evening. Oh, sadness. But! he said. I will call the host and find out whether we can squeeze you in. After making contact and my having a conversation with the host, we were in like Flint--they would bring two extra chairs for us. Yay!
Off to dinner with minimal time, but oh what a nice meal and yes, we paid for it, too, but after everything else that happened, it ended up being a very sweet deal. While we ate, E said we should see if we could stay for free overnight in the marina parking lot. I replied that we most likely could not as we were not members. She gave me that "you always think negatively" look and went off to talk to the manager. Shortly after, she came back and proudly announced that we definitely could stay overnight for free. I couldn't believe it, but there you go. We were a few minutes late to the concert, but the crowd parted as we made our way to our special chairs.
E loved the show, as I knew she would. She sang to a lot of the older songs that Jack includes in his repertoire and laughed at his stories of growing up in the area as part of a military family. It was a great night and if you ever get a chance to make it to a Jack Williams show, do it.
When E had mentioned that we'd be able to stay in the parking lot overnight, I was thrilled because I knew that if I woke up early enough in the morning that I would be able to get some great photos of the sunrise over the island.
NEXT: The Sunrise
Plans changed several times and eventually the plan was for my mother-in-law to join me on the road.
Now, to tell you the truth, I was not overly excited and a little hesitant. My history with my mother-in-law (E) has been interesting in many respects. When I first met her, she seemed anxious, but not overly so. One day she had a breakdown and since then, it's been up and down with institutionalizations and drugs, lots of drugs.
So, flash forward twenty years (yes, it's been that long) and E's functioning fairly well, considering everything she's been through. As I've never gotten the name of what she is being drugged for, the only thing I was worried about was how to keep her on a schedule, dealing with her constant chatter, and keep her interested in things outside her realm. Before we made plans to do this trip, she said she would go anywhere I wanted to go and do anything I wanted to do. Made it a little easier on me, but I was still worried.
We started out that sunny Sunday in Florida and headed in the direction of Savannah, Georgia. My rough itinerary was the first day in Savannah, second in Charleston, and the third driving straight through or parking at some random Walmart overnight (I hate shopping at Walmarts, but I will take advantage of free camping spaces.)
I had decided early on in the planning to do all the driving; I'm not a good passenger and since E has a leadfoot (but only up to 12 miles over), I figured I'd head her off at the pass and leave the speeding up to me. Problem is, I do love sight-seeing, so I missed staring longingly out the window as we traveled. We talked of everything and nothing, some things she didn't like and would want to change the subject, even if she had brought the tough subject up herself. E has no filters; whatever she thinks, she has to say. Whether a compulsion or an effect of her medication, it can be unnerving, especially when dealing with strangers or being in a car with her for hours and hours. She does seem to keep to a script, though; it was interesting watching and listening through the days of her banter.
We stopped outside Savannah in a mostly African-American part of town to eat in a family-style restaurant. My mother-in-law had told me earlier that when she talked to people of color, she apologizes to them for slavery. In my head, I'm thinking, please please please don't do this in the restaurant. I then asked her whether anyone had come up to her, since she was Jewish, to apologize for the Holocaust and other pogroms. She said no. Thankfully, she did not mention slavery, though she did visit with a family near us and commented on a sweet little girl's outfit. It was church day and most of the people were dressed up while we came in with shorts and tank tops. After our meal, I made reservations at an awesome campground outside Savannah for the evening; when I called, the ranger said had been sold out, but someone was looking out for me and we were scheduled to stay in Skidaway Island State Park for the evening.
One of scripts E relies on has to do with a credit card she uses to pay for things; it is heavier than most and does not have the number on the front. Every purchase she made, she asked the cashier what it was that made that card different. She was always happy when they couldn't figure it out so that she could explain. I was happy that she was happy. Little victories.
When we stopped in Savannah to visit, I parked in an out-of-the-way location suggested by an FB friend (thanks) so as to avoid parking fees, but we did have a two-hour limit, which made me nervous. We walked by Paula Deen's restaurant and I was tempted to go in, but we wanted to do a horse-and-buggy tour and didn't want to miss the next meetup.
We ended up on a trolley because the horse dude was not there; a couple friends and I went there a few years ago, did the ride, and found out that our driver was going to the in the then-being-filmed "Lincoln" movie. Coolio! Alas, he was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he's a star in Hollywood now.
We made our way to the trolley office and signed up for the ride; as we were paying, the woman behind the glass (after hearing the heavy credit-card story) told us the trip lasted 1-1/2 hours. Yikes! We were going to be late getting back to the camper!!! Oh god, if it got towed, I'd be so bummed. I mentioned this to E and she said, "You always think negatively, don't you?" Hmm, she had me there, so I answered with my usual retort. "Not always, but I do consider myself a realist!" She soothed me, saying that everything was going to be okay. (She was right, of course.) It is very rare that anything bothers her.
So, her second script is about a family sailing trip that took place in the 1970s. They sold everything, bought a boat, and set sail with the kids. Sailed across the Atlantic and spent two years abroad. It was a huge deal then and is still a huge deal to her. So the nice folks we were sitting with while waiting for the trolley to show got the story and were very nice to talk to since they were boaters, too.
It was a very thorough tour of Savannah and I love that town. But we were getting tired and wanted to find the park and settle in for the evening. As we drove through the entrance to the park, it was like entering a magical forest. Live oaks, the moss hanging in the trees. Huge palms and other tropical greenery. As it was getting dark, we couldn't see much, but we finally found our space, got the electric set up and chilled out. I let her have the bed and I slept (as it were) on a mat on the floor. She warned me before we put the lights out that she'd probably have to get up several times during the night (as we women of a certain age are wont to do). I was okay, as long as she didn't step on me making her way to the close-by bathhouse.
Woke up the next morning and she had not moved; she slept and slept. When she finally woke up, she remarked that she can't remember ever sleeping straight through the night and so well and so deeply. I was glad as it sounded as if she really appreciated it.
Before heading out to Charleston, we took a nice long walk in a maritime forest. The tide was out, so we didn't see a lot of water, but there were old-growth forests and lots of birds. A beautiful day. She likes exercise, so I made sure she got plenty, though she did say she wished she were doing her usually scheduled bike-riding and Curves. It didn't hurt my feelings, really. It's the way she survives.
I had found out that a musician that I really like, Jack Williams, was going to be playing a house concert near Charleston that night, so I called the host and left a message. No answer; I left an email at his site. No answer. Well, I could find the place easily enough, so we'd just show up and see if we could get in. After checking out at the campground office ($28.00 for the night) and buying a few souvenirs, and the credit-card story was repeated again, we headed out. Driving, driving, driving. We were heading to Dataw Island for the show. As we made that last turn to the island, I realized that we were driving into a private gated community. Crap! All that way for nothing.
A kind-faced young security guard greeted us at the gate and I explained that we were there to attend a concert at the cannery. Did he know about it? No. Hmmmm. E suggested we just drive through and see if that musician was there. I explained to her that we were not allowed to enter without a pass. After mulling it over, I said out loud that we would go to dinner somewhere close by and continue trying to contact the concert host. At the word "dinner," our kind security guard perked up and mentioned, in passing, just in case, that the marina was open to the public and they had a very good restaurant and that maybe after our meal, we could just happen to wander by the cannery to see if we could make it in to the concert. Well, I'll tell you, as a broad smile brightened my face, I almost jumped out and hugged the guy. I did give him a nice squeezy-squeezy on the arm and told him how sweet it was that he thought of such a brilliant idea.
So we got our pass and as we were driving by the cannery, I saw Jack out on the porch changing his strings, as he always does before a concert. We swung around and went over to say hello. He was surprised to see us and when I explained how we ended up there and that I had not been able to contact the host, he had the bad news that the show was full for the evening. Oh, sadness. But! he said. I will call the host and find out whether we can squeeze you in. After making contact and my having a conversation with the host, we were in like Flint--they would bring two extra chairs for us. Yay!
Off to dinner with minimal time, but oh what a nice meal and yes, we paid for it, too, but after everything else that happened, it ended up being a very sweet deal. While we ate, E said we should see if we could stay for free overnight in the marina parking lot. I replied that we most likely could not as we were not members. She gave me that "you always think negatively" look and went off to talk to the manager. Shortly after, she came back and proudly announced that we definitely could stay overnight for free. I couldn't believe it, but there you go. We were a few minutes late to the concert, but the crowd parted as we made our way to our special chairs.
E loved the show, as I knew she would. She sang to a lot of the older songs that Jack includes in his repertoire and laughed at his stories of growing up in the area as part of a military family. It was a great night and if you ever get a chance to make it to a Jack Williams show, do it.
When E had mentioned that we'd be able to stay in the parking lot overnight, I was thrilled because I knew that if I woke up early enough in the morning that I would be able to get some great photos of the sunrise over the island.
NEXT: The Sunrise
Family: That's All There Is
I can only start at the beginning, so here goes. April was a big month in our family and is leading rapidly into an even bigger month of adventure and fun in May. The beginning of the month found us traveling by camper to Florida to finish one part of a very big quest in our lives; finding the next boat for our family. We have a older boat, a 1969 Morgan. A nice enough boat, but not anything we could comfortably live aboard or do long passages on (okay, it COULD be done, obviously, but no heat, no hot water, and no room make it very interesting, indeed).
So, last year, Gary came into the library at home and asked whether he could buy a Moody 46. It was the make of boat we've loved for a long time; in fact, we've traveled up the East Coast to see them and even to California to see them. So I said, yes, but followed with--"You better buy this freakin' boat!" I had to say that because he always found something wrong with the others we'd seen when they'd have been perfectly fine for me.
So, needless to say, when he came back from seeing her in Florida saying that he did want the boat, I was very surprised.
And a month later, we're taking possession. I'd seen photos of her, but I was still quite stunned by her beauty when I saw her. She's a lot more complicated than our old boat, bigger, beamier, lots more electronics and things that can go on the fritz, but I am hoping for many years of voyages and memories.
That first week in April was spent on the boat at her slip in the marina. Very nice marina. Good restaurant, ship store, entertainment several nights a week, lots of tropical fish, birds, pelicans. We also visited with friends we had not seen in a while and visited parks and other sights. Gary worked hard to get the boat shipshape for the trip northward via the Gulf Stream. I know he felt overwhelmed, but with the help of some local mechanics, he kept on.
The trip northward was going to be an historical family trip for us. Gary had invited his father to join him on the trip. Two of Gary's best friends from college, Glenn and Mike, had also signed on. Gary wanted a fifth person and after a little coaxing, Elliott joined the sailing team. I was thrilled for three generations of Goldens to be on this trip even though Elliott would be missing a week of school. This is the kind of trip you do not miss and who knows when it might happen again? Gary's Dad had not been sailing for a very long time and I know that, while Gary worried a bit about him, that it would be a life-changing trip for our son Elliott.
Gary is Jewish, I am not. Typical in the Jewish religion is a transition to manhood called a Bar Mitzvah. The celebrant (wait, is that Catholic? oh well) is called to read from the Torah and accept the responsibilities of manhood. We decided to forego this typical celebration and hadn't really known what we wanted to do, if anything, to mark this turning point in Elliott's life. Then came the boat. Then came Elliott's joining the exclusive Golden team to sail her home. I called this his BOAT-Mitzvah. No over-the-top party, no begging for envelopes and envelopes of money, no formal training. For us, accepting the mantle of manhood means taking your turn at watch, helping cook meals when necessary, cleaning up, and helping when asked. Granted, this doesn't always happen at home, but it was a good journey on the testosterone boat (as my father-in-law announced before they set sail, "No broads on THIS trip!").
But, before they set sail, we had a little more traveling to do . . . .
We drove from the east coast of Florida to the west coast of Florida to help celebrate the marriage of our cousin Anna and her (now) husband Ben. We were lucky enough to be invited by our aunt to stay at the house she had rented for the week so that we would not have to stay in the camper. As the wedding day dawned, things tensed up as makeup and hair was done. I pitched in by ironing shirts and helping smooth out wrinkled dresses. Set on the beautiful beach at Anna Maria Island, it was a picture-perfect day. For those of you who may not know, our Aunt Carolyn (Anna's mother) has been mostly wheel-chair bound for many years with post-polio syndrome. So, when Anna was making her way down the aisle, imagine our surprise (and tears) when Carolyn stood up and walked the few more feet needed to get Anna to Ben. Not a dry eye in the house!
Needless to say, that was just the beginning of a truly beautiful ceremony, marked especially by the words spoken by the couple to each other. The evening reception brought much merriment, great stories from family, and lots of dancing. My once-shy son was shy no longer; he danced the night away with everyone. As we were leaving that evening, I laughed to watch him high-fiving all his new acquaintances.
The next morning, my mother-in-law and I said goodbye to the male Goldens and started our interesting trek home in the camper. But that's another blog post all by itself . . . .
So, last year, Gary came into the library at home and asked whether he could buy a Moody 46. It was the make of boat we've loved for a long time; in fact, we've traveled up the East Coast to see them and even to California to see them. So I said, yes, but followed with--"You better buy this freakin' boat!" I had to say that because he always found something wrong with the others we'd seen when they'd have been perfectly fine for me.
So, needless to say, when he came back from seeing her in Florida saying that he did want the boat, I was very surprised.
And a month later, we're taking possession. I'd seen photos of her, but I was still quite stunned by her beauty when I saw her. She's a lot more complicated than our old boat, bigger, beamier, lots more electronics and things that can go on the fritz, but I am hoping for many years of voyages and memories.
That first week in April was spent on the boat at her slip in the marina. Very nice marina. Good restaurant, ship store, entertainment several nights a week, lots of tropical fish, birds, pelicans. We also visited with friends we had not seen in a while and visited parks and other sights. Gary worked hard to get the boat shipshape for the trip northward via the Gulf Stream. I know he felt overwhelmed, but with the help of some local mechanics, he kept on.
The trip northward was going to be an historical family trip for us. Gary had invited his father to join him on the trip. Two of Gary's best friends from college, Glenn and Mike, had also signed on. Gary wanted a fifth person and after a little coaxing, Elliott joined the sailing team. I was thrilled for three generations of Goldens to be on this trip even though Elliott would be missing a week of school. This is the kind of trip you do not miss and who knows when it might happen again? Gary's Dad had not been sailing for a very long time and I know that, while Gary worried a bit about him, that it would be a life-changing trip for our son Elliott.
Gary is Jewish, I am not. Typical in the Jewish religion is a transition to manhood called a Bar Mitzvah. The celebrant (wait, is that Catholic? oh well) is called to read from the Torah and accept the responsibilities of manhood. We decided to forego this typical celebration and hadn't really known what we wanted to do, if anything, to mark this turning point in Elliott's life. Then came the boat. Then came Elliott's joining the exclusive Golden team to sail her home. I called this his BOAT-Mitzvah. No over-the-top party, no begging for envelopes and envelopes of money, no formal training. For us, accepting the mantle of manhood means taking your turn at watch, helping cook meals when necessary, cleaning up, and helping when asked. Granted, this doesn't always happen at home, but it was a good journey on the testosterone boat (as my father-in-law announced before they set sail, "No broads on THIS trip!").
But, before they set sail, we had a little more traveling to do . . . .
We drove from the east coast of Florida to the west coast of Florida to help celebrate the marriage of our cousin Anna and her (now) husband Ben. We were lucky enough to be invited by our aunt to stay at the house she had rented for the week so that we would not have to stay in the camper. As the wedding day dawned, things tensed up as makeup and hair was done. I pitched in by ironing shirts and helping smooth out wrinkled dresses. Set on the beautiful beach at Anna Maria Island, it was a picture-perfect day. For those of you who may not know, our Aunt Carolyn (Anna's mother) has been mostly wheel-chair bound for many years with post-polio syndrome. So, when Anna was making her way down the aisle, imagine our surprise (and tears) when Carolyn stood up and walked the few more feet needed to get Anna to Ben. Not a dry eye in the house!
Needless to say, that was just the beginning of a truly beautiful ceremony, marked especially by the words spoken by the couple to each other. The evening reception brought much merriment, great stories from family, and lots of dancing. My once-shy son was shy no longer; he danced the night away with everyone. As we were leaving that evening, I laughed to watch him high-fiving all his new acquaintances.
The next morning, my mother-in-law and I said goodbye to the male Goldens and started our interesting trek home in the camper. But that's another blog post all by itself . . . .
Saturday, December 1, 2012
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Tuesday, October 2, 2012
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