An Invincible Summer - A Woman's Journey

 Text from neighbor: HEADSUP: Two friends of ours, both in their 50's, got appointments (this hour) for vaccinations at the CVS. Site is easy to navigate.  Good Luck I gave it a try but I still did not qualify, not having any of the exceptions. Me to Boy Scout :  I'd make the appointment but I don't want to lie. I'm not comfortable with that. Boy Scout to Me: I get it. I wouldn't be either. I stare at him astonished, he stares at me sheepishly, and we both start laughing hysterically. Boy Scout, the man who cleverly omits facts, changes directions of conversations, can be honesty challenged when it is going to make him look bad and is known to boost his boasting in fantastical ways then says, almost ashamedly but not quite, "That was a lie."  The man is working on it.  

Working was all I could do for awhile. I didn't sleep or eat. I certainly wasn't parenting or reaching out to friends. It was a dark time and I just couldn't find a door or even a cracked window. But I could work and work I did.  I took a client call, a gal I've know very surfacy for decades. She's educated, wise and witty. We talked once every 4 or 5 years, discuss a solution to a problem, and say our goodbyes. This time was different. Maybe she could tell by the tone of my voice. I'm not sure how she knew. but with her sweet, southern drawl she said, "So tell me dear, how ya doin?" I held my breath for a moment, trying to quell the coming downpour, trying to steel myself against the tide. She said something else, with a caring tone, I can't even remember what it was.  I told her I was doing ok. "Come on honey, what's on your heart?", she says. I didn't mean to say it, it was so unexpected. I didn't say my husband's an ad

Sometimes I need to be reminded how many really wonderfully decent people there are all over this planet. YouTube has a channel called Random Acts of Kindness. In a time when we often see people at their worst, it warms the heart. I heard this somewhere and I've adopted it for my own: Kindness is my religion

We humans are a fickle lot. Often thinking we want things, hoping they will fill the empty spots, then getting those things and quickly looking for something else.   May I never tire of seeking out the morning light. May I always feel the renewal and hope that inhabits my heart when the sky changes from deep, vast inky blackness to the orangy, pinky.blue that lovingly brings me into another day. 

Long day of golf in chilly weather had me wanting to soak in the tub last night. Normally Boy Scout takes that opportunity to snooze but this time he came in to play a song. I think it was Hurt So Good to relate all his body pain which he feels is worth every step taken or swing made on the golf course.  Then he played some stuff he knew I would enjoy. I got Never My Love, Down Town, All I Need Is the Air That I Breathe and a few others and then finally he played the song that goes to one of my favorite movie scenes ever. NOT my favorite movie by a long shot but the scene....priceless.  I’ve had trouble with videos disappearing on blogger so I hope it shows:

Saturday was our anniversary. Woohoo! I admitted to him that I never thought we'd make it. We have and it's going better all the time. We took a drive down to my old stomping grounds. We headed to Pasadena, where I had lived with the Secret Keeper for a number of years, and the surrounding areas near the foothills. In Southern California, the San Gabriel Mountains run somewhat parallel to the Pacific Ocean. They are the reason we could boast of being able to snow ski in the morning and head to Santa Monica for some beach time in the afternoon. It is that close. We had a fabulous lunch in Pasadena and headed to Old Town Monrovia. After strolling the streets for awhile, we skipped over to Sierra Madre, where I have wonderful memories of beautiful hikes. Sierra Madre made me feel like I had gone back in time to my childhood. Tiny little town, quieter roads, older homes. Lo and behold, the Boy Scout spots.......wait for it........a golf course. Yup! A little 9 hole course and the n

Near the end of my 14th year on the planet I was really struggling in school. I was never a brilliant student. Being on the young end of my peers and having an unstable home didn’t help that situation, but I just couldn’t get the energy I needed to make it through the day. Me....the energizer bunny....couldn’t manage to get out of bed. I started skipping school and staying home. Looking back, it could have been construed as depression, a rather serious one but I hid it as best I could with fake notes and phone calls to the school. I was ashamed at my lack of gumption but I just couldn’t do it  Then one day, while having dinner at the sizzler (a rare treat paid for by my favorite auntie) my aunt commented that my eyes looked yellow. My older sister, who had just received her nursing certificate, looked and concurred that they were indeed a rather deep shade of yellow. They got me to the doctor and, lo and behold, I had a raging case of hepatitis A. I had all the symptoms. By the time I

When I was 12, a small miracle occurred. Amidst the sadness and turmoil of a family falling apart, struggling to stay in the home and keeping our heads above water, one of my sisters had a baby. He, Thomas, was the first of many nieces and nephews that I had the pleasure of greeting and welcoming into the family but this guy.....this guy brought something with him that had been missing. Hope. I can only speak from my perspective but we all seemed sort of shell shock and sad. Life had been hard, especially for my mother, and things would get harder before they got better but suddenly there was something that brought joy and smiles to all our faces on a daily basis. My sister allowed me babysit that guy and through the years we had many adventures hiking, beach trips, swimming, the zoo, teaching he and his little bro to drive in parking lots. So many good memories. I have no doubt I was not the best babysitter around, my parenting tools were (and still are) questionable, but I did, and d

We sat at a busy intersection, safely tucked within 3,500 lbs of metal and plastic, the red light keeping us captive long enough to watch the scene unfolding at the gas station nearby.  A quick movement caught my attention. Seconds went by before I knew exactly what I was watching. A dance, violent and involuntary. A man, maybe 40 or maybe 20 and life’s just taken it’s toll out on his lanky thin body, was throwing himself here and there, doing high kicks repeatedly, boxing his arms high in the air, jumping and spinning. The medical term is punding but the street term is tweaking. Picture Frankenstein trying to break dance and you have an idea. At any rate, this was as violent tweaking as I’d ever seen; throwing his body to and fro.  What surprised me was the couple pumping gas just feet away. The woman driver had her window down. She was calm and unaffected. The man was gassing up the car as if there was no one there. Honestly I would have been freaking out, frightened by his behavior,