“And we talked about the old times, and we drank ourselves some beer - still crazy after all these years. Oh, still crazy after all these years.” Paul Simon
I know we can’t go back in time. I don’t really want to. Except I got the chance to do just that this past week…and my recent visit of my past life has been wonderful. I reconnected with friends that I went to kindergarten with. I hung out with my old high school buddies. I re-met some kids I didn’t really know in school but found I have a lot in common and that I really hope to keep that bond. I rediscovered old friends that I have lost touch with, but now hope remain in contact with. And I felt youthful, once again.
These are not crows feet - they are laugh lines. These are not age spots - they are freckles. My hair is not gray - it is really light blonde. Denial? No, not at all. Feeling youthful? Yes, indeedy. Being with friends from my past helped push that youthful feeling to the forefront of my mind. I mean after all, I am a grandma. But for the past few days, I’ve gotten a chance to experience memory lane at it’s finest. And it’s a pretty nice street to be on.
Again, I wouldn’t change anything, even if some of the memories are painful. I choose not to dwell on the “what ifs” since I know that is a total waste of time. I am just truly enjoying the “right now”. So being in the “right now” with people from my way back past has been fun, refreshing and another great memory to add to the collection.
I grew up in Southern California and went to school with hippies, surfers and jocks. We had actors, singers and famous ball players. Oh, and then there were the really smart kids that are somewhere out there inventing the next facebook. I didn’t know it was different than other schools - that we really weren‘t typical…I just thought it was wonderful. We never ate inside, we swam all year long, we hardly ever had to wear coats and we listened to the Beach Boys on our 8 track tapes. We rode our bikes to the beach and didn’t have to go to another spot for Spring Break. Of course we had our sects…all schools do. (Please read the spelling of that word correctly). We had our groups. Our clicks.
So my little mini-reunion from High School was a blast from the past. A party at the beach with some really nice, good, fun people. It was also a get together that didn’t involve clicks. We didn’t differentiate what groups we were in 34 years ago. It really didn’t matter. Once everyone got there and we mingled, we didn’t stop having fun all night. We closed the place down. Not bad for the “older” generation. My kids should be so energetic.
Reality comes back way too soon. But I really hope the memories will continue in all of us. A wonderful Peter Pan moment that left us feeling like we were teens again - laughing, talking, flirting and casting our cares away for a few short hours in time.
Thank you to my old friends that are now new friends - we are still crazy after all these years.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Scary Frozen Moments
They were the words that no parent ever wants to hear: “Your daughter and granddaughter were in a head-on collision and your daughter is being care-flighted to the hospital.”
I know many have heard worse. But these words turned our world upside down. We both were calmly frantic, high on adrenaline and fear, waiting for the outcome. We weren’t even together, since the baby went to one hospital and our daughter to another. We stayed strong - praying and drinking coffee and texting each other…trying to give each other strength.
I have many moments in life that have been frozen in time: Saying “I do” to my soul mate, watching a Blue Whale dive beneath the Pacific, holding my granddaughters when they were minutes old, watching my son marry his soul mate and seeing a double rainbow in the mountains of New Mexico as Elton John‘s “Funeral for a Friend“ blared on the car stereo. But those were the good moments. I’ve been blessed to not have too many frozen in time bad moments. So this was a true test.
The crash was all over the news - television, radio and newspaper. It hit the TV long before I had word from the doctors on the outcome of our daughter. We found out first that our granddaughter was going to be just fine. A true miracle - not to mention the wonderful invention of a safety car seat. After quite a few hours, we finally found out that our daughter was quite banged up and had multiple breaks and injuries - but would be fine eventually. She had God, 25 guardian angels and a seat belt to thank for that…because the car was mince meat.
I certainly prefer that the frozen moments and the “take your breath away” moments are because of wonderful events - not tragic ones. Even though I may think I can control life, when something like this shakes me up I realize that the control is an illusion. I can’t control what happens in life anymore than I can control the rising of the sun. What I can control, and have chosen to do, is how I handle the surprises that life sends our way. Stuff is going to happen - it’s called Life. It’s how I handle the stuff that matters.
Daughter and granddaughter are going to be just fine. Dad and mom got their heart jump-started and their humble prayers answered. Life moves ahead at a speed between extremely slow and lightening fast, and it still includes - and always will - wonderful “frozen in time” moments.
I know many have heard worse. But these words turned our world upside down. We both were calmly frantic, high on adrenaline and fear, waiting for the outcome. We weren’t even together, since the baby went to one hospital and our daughter to another. We stayed strong - praying and drinking coffee and texting each other…trying to give each other strength.
I have many moments in life that have been frozen in time: Saying “I do” to my soul mate, watching a Blue Whale dive beneath the Pacific, holding my granddaughters when they were minutes old, watching my son marry his soul mate and seeing a double rainbow in the mountains of New Mexico as Elton John‘s “Funeral for a Friend“ blared on the car stereo. But those were the good moments. I’ve been blessed to not have too many frozen in time bad moments. So this was a true test.
The crash was all over the news - television, radio and newspaper. It hit the TV long before I had word from the doctors on the outcome of our daughter. We found out first that our granddaughter was going to be just fine. A true miracle - not to mention the wonderful invention of a safety car seat. After quite a few hours, we finally found out that our daughter was quite banged up and had multiple breaks and injuries - but would be fine eventually. She had God, 25 guardian angels and a seat belt to thank for that…because the car was mince meat.
I certainly prefer that the frozen moments and the “take your breath away” moments are because of wonderful events - not tragic ones. Even though I may think I can control life, when something like this shakes me up I realize that the control is an illusion. I can’t control what happens in life anymore than I can control the rising of the sun. What I can control, and have chosen to do, is how I handle the surprises that life sends our way. Stuff is going to happen - it’s called Life. It’s how I handle the stuff that matters.
Daughter and granddaughter are going to be just fine. Dad and mom got their heart jump-started and their humble prayers answered. Life moves ahead at a speed between extremely slow and lightening fast, and it still includes - and always will - wonderful “frozen in time” moments.
Truckin' - Jerry Garcia Style
It’s the stuff that most people only dream about…being on a journey with no end in sight. Such is the journey that my friend of 35 years is on. Through his path, he has taught me much.
My driveway seems so empty right now. For the past almost month it has been the home to a huge RV. That’s right – just like cousin Eddy from the movie “Christmas Vacation”. We were just another stop on the adventure of a lifetime: traveling the country in an RV. They are exploring all the terrains of the land while learning about all the various American cultures, people and food. It is a dream of many, yet so few have the wherewithal to accomplish such a feat.
The first few nights we sat enthralled listening to him and his wife tell the tales of the road. I felt like a kid around a campfire waiting for the next exciting story to be told. Once we got to know each other again (we haven’t seen each other for well over 20 years) the conversation got livelier. It didn’t take long; I soon discovered some friends don’t lose their connection regardless of space and time. Our talks around the dinner table turned to religion and politics and who we had crushes on in high school. We tried to explain each other’s belief systems, and what our true life passions are. The conversations ran deep – and at times long into the night.
I believe in serendipity. I believe that people come into my life for a reason. In this case, it was for many reasons. I am on the journey of simplifying my life. I struggle daily to downsize and get rid of the clutter – mentally and physically. After meeting someone that makes their home an 18 foot room on wheels, I realized how hard I am making it on myself.
They gave me advice on how to part with so-called treasures I’d never thought I could live without. They taught me that a woman really can live with only 3 pairs of shoes (now, I’m not going that far, just so you know). They taught me that it is the here and now, that living in the moment, is much more important than all the beautiful furniture in the world. They taught me that people are more important than knick-knacks, and that if you really miss your knick-knacks you can always find more. I learned that the person you are speaking to right now may just be a speck on the radar, never to be met again. That moments spent, regardless of how insignificant they may seem, are far richer than any “stuff” one may have sitting around. I learned that it’s not all about the neighborhood, since I found out that one can meet some incredibly nice people while camped in a Sam’s Club parking lot.
Our last few days in Dayton were spent showing them our town; the eclectic bars and restaurants of the Oregon District, the beauty of Riverscape, and most importantly our friends and family. We took them to Oktoberfest at the Dayton Art Institute and they showed me again why I love this town. They soaked in the beauty of the skyline reflected in the river, under dark, fresh, clear skies.
Our last night was spent around a campfire, drinking wine and talking deep talks. We ended up in a drum circle (it’s exactly what it sounds like), and he taught me the nuances of playing my new instrument.
The end came all too soon; even though it was time for all that they moved on. I look forward to the day that they criss-cross the states again, so I can get my fix of learning about life on the road. Living on four wheels is nowhere in my immediate future, but living in the moment and appreciating what I have surely is. Thank you my friend. What a long, strange trip it’s been.
My driveway seems so empty right now. For the past almost month it has been the home to a huge RV. That’s right – just like cousin Eddy from the movie “Christmas Vacation”. We were just another stop on the adventure of a lifetime: traveling the country in an RV. They are exploring all the terrains of the land while learning about all the various American cultures, people and food. It is a dream of many, yet so few have the wherewithal to accomplish such a feat.
The first few nights we sat enthralled listening to him and his wife tell the tales of the road. I felt like a kid around a campfire waiting for the next exciting story to be told. Once we got to know each other again (we haven’t seen each other for well over 20 years) the conversation got livelier. It didn’t take long; I soon discovered some friends don’t lose their connection regardless of space and time. Our talks around the dinner table turned to religion and politics and who we had crushes on in high school. We tried to explain each other’s belief systems, and what our true life passions are. The conversations ran deep – and at times long into the night.
I believe in serendipity. I believe that people come into my life for a reason. In this case, it was for many reasons. I am on the journey of simplifying my life. I struggle daily to downsize and get rid of the clutter – mentally and physically. After meeting someone that makes their home an 18 foot room on wheels, I realized how hard I am making it on myself.
They gave me advice on how to part with so-called treasures I’d never thought I could live without. They taught me that a woman really can live with only 3 pairs of shoes (now, I’m not going that far, just so you know). They taught me that it is the here and now, that living in the moment, is much more important than all the beautiful furniture in the world. They taught me that people are more important than knick-knacks, and that if you really miss your knick-knacks you can always find more. I learned that the person you are speaking to right now may just be a speck on the radar, never to be met again. That moments spent, regardless of how insignificant they may seem, are far richer than any “stuff” one may have sitting around. I learned that it’s not all about the neighborhood, since I found out that one can meet some incredibly nice people while camped in a Sam’s Club parking lot.
Our last few days in Dayton were spent showing them our town; the eclectic bars and restaurants of the Oregon District, the beauty of Riverscape, and most importantly our friends and family. We took them to Oktoberfest at the Dayton Art Institute and they showed me again why I love this town. They soaked in the beauty of the skyline reflected in the river, under dark, fresh, clear skies.
Our last night was spent around a campfire, drinking wine and talking deep talks. We ended up in a drum circle (it’s exactly what it sounds like), and he taught me the nuances of playing my new instrument.
The end came all too soon; even though it was time for all that they moved on. I look forward to the day that they criss-cross the states again, so I can get my fix of learning about life on the road. Living on four wheels is nowhere in my immediate future, but living in the moment and appreciating what I have surely is. Thank you my friend. What a long, strange trip it’s been.
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