Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Quit Beating Yourself Up



“Listen Kathy, I came to terms with this years ago.  Daddy left us.  He left us to start a new family, he didn’t want this family, so he left.  Quit beating yourself up over him.” 

Daddy died October 1, in his sleep, alone in his bed.  We received a phone call, well a voice mail to call.  We were pretty sure what that meant.  We’d been estranged, pretty much no communication for past two years.  Dad and our family.  The ‘step-family’ swooped in a while ago.  They were in, we were out.  Nothing new. 

For a while now, I’ve been spending time going over the past with my dad.  The good, the bad and the ugly. 

October 1959.  I was 11, just starting puberty, my brothers were 10 and 8.  Our little family moved to South Lake Tahoe.  Dad was a blue collar worker.  Mom’s collar was secretarial white.  Dad was a builder, he could do anything.  He figured he could make his dream stash in a small country berg that was destined for great things. To look at it now, the Lake is about the only thing up there that looks like it did 50 years ago.

We were quite the dysfunctional family as I remember.  Fights, money troubles, women troubles.  Two years after moving to Tahoe, Daddy took off with another woman to live in Oregon.

Junior high graduation came and went.  He showed up for an hour.  For the remainder of our young lives, my brothers and I received just about nothing from dad.  No cards, no love, no birthday cash, no memories there at all.

Basically that relationship never changed over the course of our lives.  Dad became and Grandpa Russ and Grandpa Russ was no different than Daddy Russ.  Sometimes we saw him, heard from him, other times we didn’t.  There were good times, short family trips, mini vacations, stories shared, new children, grand-children, great grand-children brought into the world.  It all seemed so normal.

Two years ago, I told my dad that my sister-in-law was planning a big surprise 60th birthday party for my brother.  Dad wanted to go!  He was excited!  I was excited! And though he’d had some recent impairments, lapses in cognition, judgment, memory,  I told myself, we can do this.  I’m an RN, a professionally trained, educated,  psych nurse, he’s my dad. 

Well, after three Emergency Room visits in three different cities, trains, planes, and ambulances in three different states, we made it home after never getting to the birthday party.   Out of his home environment, Dad completely lost it in a series of confused, psychotic and violent episodes. We dragged home bewildered and lost.

As a young man, Daddy survived three years of prison camp in WWII after being captured on Wake Island.  He later helped build the port in his tiny fishing village.  He traveled and loved and was loved.  My travel bug I’ve gotten from him.

As I said, since his death, I’ve gone over all my dad’s mistakes enough times to see all the things I’ve done wrong.  He was just doing his best.  I was doing my best.  His dad left his mom when he and his two brothers were little boys, off to sail the world as a merchant marine.

When I learned he was dead, I didn’t want a service.  I’d said my goodbye long ago.  Overnight a change of heart set in.  We did need it, my kids, my self, we needed to say our goodbyes.   So we had a small, home garden family service.  My brothers didn’t attend.  They had their own goodbyes to do, in their own style.  So, on a bright and beautiful fall sunny Sunday, it was time to say a few things about Grandpa Russ.   

“Remember the fresh salmon he brought to us when we were up camping in the Oregon woods?”
. . . “Or the time he chewed out the restaurant chef for not buying local fresh crab?”
. . . “I only remember how grumpy he was.”
. . .  “I remember when he ‘disappeared’ with Grandma Mollie for a couple days when they were both visiting their first grandson.  Long after they had divorced.”
. . . “How about the time he took us out in the Pacific in his fishing boat?  And Pauline got sick, throwing up over the side?  Hah hah hah”


Come together in a circle, hands holding hands, soothing threads of ‘Amazing Grace’ in the air.  Peace, gratitude, chuckles.


…“Okay, let’s see how the Niners are doing!”


I didn’t say much at the service/wake.  I listened.  Why speak ill of the dead.  Or the living? 


A final word about my dad’s dying?  I wish I felt worse than I do. 



Tuesday, April 30, 2013

From Over There to Over Here


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It's a whirl-wind, I tell ya.  18,325 miles hither and yon.  For the next few days, I’m resting my self in the English midlands of Coventry, UK.  I left home the 4th night of March.   With the exception of just a handful of nights, I've had the pleasure of the company of cs and other friends all along the way.  The friends who look after me, the friends who share a bit of their life and themselves each and every day.  Postcards I send from here and there only touch briefly on the world I see.  Even this little note is just a snapshot.  The little ins and outs will come later.


One of those exceptions to not staying with friends and/or couchsurfers was a night on which after 20 hours of pick-up, bus, taxi and train travel, I was in heaven in a Fes Rhiad.  Asleep.  Next day, having the pleasure of a Hamman scrub, herbal massage and a pedicure and mint Moroccan tea.

Climbing to the top of Morello in the Castellón region of Spain and gazing out over the hills in wonder.  I could practically hear Gandolf or Eddard Stark around the corner. Was briefly locked into a bunker that soldiers of the Abraham Lincoln Brigades hunkered down in so many years ago near Segorbe.  Overwhelmed with the beauty of La Familia Sagrada, Barcelona and the mind of Gaudi.

Pizza for dinner my first night in France with my friend and former colleague from San Francisco.  Peeking through the windows in the house Napolean built for his wife in Marseille.  That house she never lived in. Feeling the sadness & poignancy of so many lives lost at sea while viewing the Marseille, Notre-Dame de la Garde overlooking the Marseille sports boat harbor.  

Touched by the emotion resting in the Musee de la Reddition in Reims, France, where General Eisenhower accepted the unconditional surrender of Germany in 1945. 

Then many miles later, standing in Churchill’s Underground War Rooms where the war plans took effect.  Walking through the Globe Theater, feasting on the songs of the season, mingling with Sherlock Holmes and Florence Nightengale in their Museums.  Spending a few hours wandering around the Tower of London and a few minutes walking across Abbey Road while, yes, listening to Rubber Soul in my earbuds.

In wonderment for evensong in Westminster Abbey.  Spending an entire day in the Louvre and could have done more.  Realizing I want to better my own painting and go home to study that.  Knowing that now that I’m retired, I can do that.  My time is my own.  Resting my soul in Monet’s Waterlilies in Musée de l'Orangerie and pattering around with Renior in the D'Orsay.



Walking through Sukhothai ruins outside of Bangkok.   Traveling to new places with good friends.


Picking up a couple new young friends with which to drink beer at 10 am on a boat to another Thai island.  Being  mesmerized by a giant yellow and black beetle fly around the boat for quite a while.  We named it Paul.  Drinking beer at a winery outside of Hua Hin, Thailand.  Happily lazing in the sun on a beach for most of a week at Ko Samui.

Playing with street art in Maasthrict, in the Netherlands, chalking off another country on my list.  Eating my way around the world with no guilt at all.  I know where the gym is when I get home.  Where my bike is.  And where the pools are.

Chocolate factory.  Free samples.  More to buy to take away.   300 beers in one restaurant in Liege.  Delicious Belgian meatballs.  Brussels and Belgium waffles.  First taste of escargot with cs friends in Liege.  Glasses of champagne in Champagne, Reims. 




Hit my fourth life-time continent in the cities and desert of Morocco.  New friends in Marrakesh and out in the desert over the High Atlas mountains. Walking through fields of wheat and date trees, clover and fava beans they grow in their own plot of land.


Sharing my ventures with my 'traveling gnome', a drawing my 6 year old grand-daughter made for me, so I "wouldn't forget her".  She asked me if I was going to Egypt.  I told her, no, not to Egypt.  She replied, "that's good.  I don't want you to be a slave."  Brooklyn, she pays close attention to those Bible stories she hears.

Meeting up with my niece and her husband in London after not seeing her little self for almost 30 years.  A most fantastic time.  She even made me a lunch for my day in the City.  Such a sweet-heart.

Sending packages home with 'stuff' I pick up along the way.  So many packages, the Post Office people asking my family at home 'what's with all the packages coming here from around the world?'  


Making my way through Spanish in Spain, French in France  and feeling pretty darn happy to be in English speaking country again.  After moving from Spanish to French in such a short time, it was hilarious listening to me mixing up languages.  And everywhere I go, folks were always helpful as we each enjoyed mutual giggles at their English and my foreign language attempts.

Stumbling my way through the catacombs in Paris.   Thoroughly enjoying so many museums and theatres and churches and cathedrals, I’ll have to sort them all out later.

Managing both the long-haul and in town metro, bus and train systems and grateful for their pretty much overwhelming efficiency.  At least from my little point of reference.  Laughing at the announcement on RyanAir, ‘and don’t forget, even you can be a millionaire with RyanAir’s new scratcher game!’


Eating scrumptious pastries wherever I find them.  Accomplishing the maze of the undergrounds in Paris and London.  Walking on green grass in sunshine in Paris and London and just about everywhere else my feet take me.  Opening my pretty new umbrella a handful of times and for short duration each.  I can honestly report, I saw no dog-poop on the streets of Paris.  

Happy to be where I am where I am this very moment, contemplating what treasures are ahead of me tomorrow.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.   Thank you to all the wonderful folks along the way.  Re-connecting with couchsurfers, with friends and family around the world.

 
Spending a bit of time with friends and comrades -  Adrienne, Ken, Dan, Chad, Mimoune, Francoise, Roger, Michelle, Brigitte, Val, Ray, Kerri & Andrew & Anne, Tim, Mary, Nina & Tim; Malcolm.  Friends with whom I was privileged to stay in their home.  And I’m not done yet.


A wise man told me that we don’t travel to see the world.  We travel to see the people.  So true.  The people are the little connectors, the glue that keeps all the pieces of the puzzle in one place.  Difficult to do with some of us.


















Saturday, March 16, 2013

Offers Discount ...

Mae Nam Neighborhood Temple 

Sidewalks w/Carved IN Storm Grates
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I suppose at one time or other when traveling, we might need to take a walk to find a pharmacy.  For me, I developed a little infection on one of my ear piercings (not a new one) a few days ago.  I asked around for directions, took a walk to the pharmacy, picked up some rubbing alcohol.  I think that's what it is.  It's aqua, smells like rubbing alcohol, only a bit sweeter.  The infection is ebbing.  I don't know, maybe I should taste it?  Anyway.  It was a nice walk, ended up being a couple miles, just because it felt good
to walk around the neighborhood and explore.

Spirit House
Walking back to my little hide-away at the Hutcha Resort on Mae Nam Beach,  I decided to make a stop at the corner travel office.  There's one on almost every corner in Thailand where you find tourists.  I was thinking of going to two different areas on the island, and needed a bit of help getting there.  Contrary to my initial mind-game that I play with myself, I decided on a couple of tours.  I can't be on my own always, can I?  'Not much fun in that.

Nice lady in the office.  Very helpful.  She began to explain, in English, the tour to Angthon National Marine Park, which I was interested in, having read of it in my www.lonelyplanet.com Thailand Travel Guide.

She picked up the full color brochure, graced with beautiful pictures and bullet points of many amazing activities to fulfill my every desire.  I asked how many Baht?  She wrote 1500 on the brochure edge, smiled and told me, "Discount for you, Madam," as she writes 1300 Baht.  LOL.  Sign me up.


By this time, I was nice and comfy in the sturdy little teak chair parked at her desk.  In walks the fellow  who runs the internet cafe with an adjoining entrance to the travel office.  He pulls a Singha Beer out of a cooler in the corner while he glances over at me.  Well, of course,  I asked him, jokingly, "Where's mine?"  He laughs, makes some comment and says to me, "You from Russia?"
"No, not Russia..."
"Italy??"
"No...not Italy, America! California"  (That usually gets a good response...)
"AHHH, America!  B a r a c k  O b a m a !!!"  He goes on to say, "I'm not so good with language."  And off he walks, laughing, chattering, by which time we're all laughing.

All Aboard to Boat #7 via the Long Boat
Next up, I ask about the 'Giant Buddha on the hill', another place I would like to see.  "Ahh, the giant Buddha!  Yes..."  She gathers yet another full color brochure with lots of beautiful photos and I sign up for that one, too.  Angthon, Friday; Giant Buddha, Monday.  That'll work.  I have to space these things out.  Otherwise, when will I get to laze around the beach??

Angthong National Marine Park
Well, well, well.  Now I've gone on my first tour.  AND, I had a fantastic time!!

When all 35 or so of us first landed on the boat taking us to the Park, of course we didn't really know each other, we were all a bunch of strangers, a bit quiet, just looking around for a friendly face.  An English speaking conversation would be a bonus.

A young couple, turned out to be not a couple at all, but brother and sister, were close to me on one of the several large wooden bench/tables placed on the deck, under a large canvas covered tied down to provide shade.  We began talking, had a couple Chang beers, and by the end of the trip, were good friends.  They're on a 2-week holiday to visit friends who live here on Samui.

Lisa and her brother, Matt from Gatwick, England.  Matt works as a baggage handler at the Gatwick airport, has a grand fascination with all things wild - crocodiles, tigers, elephants, great whites and Thai boxing.  Young guy, already planning the millions of Euros he will make in Real Estate, leaving a fortune to his children.  I think he told me his dad is in Real Estate at this time.
Lisa and Matt from Gatwick

Lisa studies at University in Manchester to be a Social Worker.  She told me with a little frown, saying some of her friends think it's a 'bad' thing to be a SW. "'taking away people's children and all."  She wants to work with youth, with young people, to help them.  Good on her.  When not in school, she lives at home in Gatwick, close enough, she says, to see all the air traffic coming and going.  She has the travel bug bad, has had incredible adventures.  She totally cracked me up.  

All in all, we sailed the high seas, hiked the hills, laughed and laughed and told stories like we'd known each other for a lot more than a few hours.

Luncheon is Served 
We were all served a tasty Thai buffet lunch and all the watermelon and fresh pineapple slices we could eat.   Usually any fresh fruit or vegie that comes in a thick skin is healthy enough to eat, since you peel away any germy stuff anyway.  That's my rule, anyway.  A young Indian couple joined us for lunch; they're visiting Thailand for the first time.  Sweet people.  They told us they don't swim, but they did take snorkeling gear and I later saw them walking in the shallows off the beach, with him balancing her under her waist, so she could bend over and look under the water.





Over the Emerald Lagoon (see it??)
At the second beach we pulled  into, I went out swimming to the farthest point within the buoys, where the water was clear and didn't see much at all.  We had been warned that snorkeling here wasn't all that great because of the tides and everyone swimming around in the shallows.  I took a mask with me anyway.  On my swim back in, I did see several yellow black and  blue striped Mollies, some dark gray ones, a few eels on the sand and loads of coral and seaweed growing and swinging in the current.

As I reached the shore, a young Japanese couple were bending down looking into the water with their snorkle masks, near the shore, where everything is stirred up.  I asked them, "Do you swim?"  "No, no" they replied.  Happy helper, me, I showed them with few words and many hand gestures that if they just walk out a bit, they will see some beautiful fish.  So they turned and walked out that direction.  I turned around, put my mask on for a last look beneath the waves, and OMG!!  There were dozens of striped yellow, blue and white, black striped fishes just in front of me.  And I just sent those fine people away!!  I felt bad.  When I looked out, they were having a good time, though, looking at something down there.
The Three Amigos

At this same island, Matt took the big climb of the day, 400 meters.  Lisa and I did 80 on the first island stop of the day, that was enough for us.  We did a short kayaking around about at the first island, too.  Fred would have been proud.  My brother, big time rafter/kayaker who's taken me on at least one long rafting trip.  I paddled and steered with the best of them, the front-'man' in a 2 person kayak.

The guy sharing the kayak with me was on his own for the tour.  We laughed, shared a few directional tips; he was a strong paddle man.  Not bad looking, either.  We managed paddling beneath some rock outcroppings without just a few crashes into them.  Slight crashes.  Tiny ones.

View from our Boat #7: Fishin for a Livin
Alis, our Tour Guide was an excellent communicator.  He gave instructions to the entire group, and then to small groups, so everyone would understand what would be happening.  English as a second language.  There are many, many, many tour groups out there, and I'm sure they don't want to lose anyone, or have someone get on the wrong boat.  So we all knew, when he called "Boat #7!!", it was time to pay attention.   We were provided life jackets and waterproof boat bags for cameras and such.  Good stuff.  Just after I had booked this trip, I read some negative comments about this tour company on one of the well-known travel websites.  I'm going back there and post a good reference as soon as I am able.  The negative ones were a few years old, so I was willing to check it out.  And I'm really glad I did.  www.tripadviser.com

After we boarded for the trip home, about and hour and a half I think, we were waiting for a bit to get started.  One of the tour guides opened up the side rail and let us know if anyone wanted to dive or jump in and swim around, it was okay to do so.  A 20 yard jump into the sea!  YES!!  Matt was the first one in and I wasn't far behind him.  There was the cutest little 6 year old German kid, Michael.  He and his dad would jump in one after the other, he was just the cutest little froggie-boy!!  I think Lisa got video of me jumping my last time.  We'll see when we catch up later; hopefully we'll see each other again when I'm in their neck of the woods in just a couple months time.

Good times, good food, cold beer, cool water and a hot sun made for a beautiful day with lots of great pictures.  Lots of different boats on the sea to see, islands everywhere we looked, shifting cloud formations, the sea the color of so many shades of blue and green.  The waves, the foamy drifts off the boat.  The sea air.  Ahhh.

Sir Paul
As we were lounging around on the boat trip back to Samui, I noticed what I thought was this huge yellow and black bumblebee.  It mezmorized me, flying around the left side of the boat, my side, over the top and back again aft.  Flying and swirling and flipping over and over again.  Darn, if didn't want to get a picture of it.  I tried and tried.

Lisa told me, 'You ARE going to get a picture of that, don't you know."

 Just about when I'd given up, the little thing landed at a post right where we were sitting.  It was a BEETLE!  Right then and there, he was named Sir Paul.

Our Tour Guide, Alis, with the End of the Trip Tip Basket
The Boat ride back was nice and mellow.  Such a change from complete strangers, quiet and alone to becoming good friends, or at least friendly.   It's a lovely thing.

With all this fun and such, I did manage to get my first (minor) sunburn on this current 'holiday'.   Just enough to stay indoors for a bit.

I'll get back out when the sun is a bit cooler in the late afternoon.  Happy Hour time at the Pool and the Beach Bars.  That's one thing about Hutcha Resort.  Three different bars within one small space.  Iced tea or coffee, Chang, fresh drinkable water, breakfast, lunch and dinner.  Pina Coladas.....


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So yes.
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.You can find discounts.
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. Just about anywhere.
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Just Hop Aboard.