January: Oceanside

 In case you have not been able to guess yet: last weekend, I was able to escape my corner of the desert for a few days and go visit Cherished Friend in Oceanside. 

It was lovely.

He is himself, as always. It is a pleasure and a comfort to spend time with him, to listen to him talk, to sit in the quiet of his house, to contemplate the Scrabble board, to take a walk in the Oceanside trees, to look out over the actual ocean. 

Every now and then, the temptation to be self-conscious creeps into the back of my head; but he (a little frighteningly, actually) knows me so well -- oftentimes predicting what I am going to say -- and forgives me my awkwardness, flaws and foibles, that I choose instead to just let go and acknowledge that for whatever (very mysterious) reason, he accepts me just as I am. And a rare sense of serenity results. 

I have worried on occasion that the Many Terrible Things of the past several years have made me cold and hard and unfeeling; there, I am better able to tap into my well-hidden core of warmth and be myself. 

The only hard part of visiting him, is the knowledge that the time in Oceanside is very short. It is so important not to anticipatorily grieve leaving again; and yet, it is so difficult. I do my very best to stay in the moment. 

I know he has a well-established personal space sphere, and I respect that, keeping distance to ensure his comfort. He was kind enough, though, to tolerate sufficient proximity to take a selfie of the two of us together before I left. (Actually, several, until I could manage one in which I did not look like a demented chipmunk.) I'm grateful. 

When I think of Cherished Friend, I often think of the saying: Friendship is a sheltering tree. It is rare that I am able to be in the shelter of this particular tree, but the peace and safety there are immeasurable.

January: Boat Show

 I went to a boat show. (Can you guess where I was yet?)  So many boats.  It was in many ways much like attending an RV show, except water instead of wheels, and more often wood instead of composite. 

My takeaway from the boat show: I finally understood Cherished Friend's Boat Dream. 

I have supported his Boat Dream for a long time -- it is his dream and important to him, and so it is important to me. But I finally UNDERSTAND why it is his Dream, what the Dream is all about, and what steps are needed to truly bring it to fruition. 

It makes sense. 

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In many ways, Cherished Friend is much like my college physics class: I feel like I am on the cusp of understanding him, and that if I ask just enough questions, or just the right questions, I will finally -- finally! -- be enlightened. 

I may never truly know anything. But at least as far as the Boat Dream goes, it's clear why it exists. 

January: Sometimes It Really Is Fun and Games

I do enjoy a good Scrabble game. My goal, with my Scrabble companion (who absolutely excels at the game), is to lose by fewer than 100 points. 

509 to 345. I lost. By more than 100 points. 

389 to 362. I lost. By fewer than 100 points!

330 to 350. I actually won this one! It was a very close game.

279 to 273. A low-scoring game, though once more a close game. I lost. 

342 to 217. I lost. By more than 100 points. Again. 

It was all just delightful.

Front Row Seat

 Herself speaks.

I am a very slow learner. 

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It took me a long time to become a fully developed human being. People were always difficult to understand, and neither college nor professional school really taught me what I needed to know to navigate Life in a sea of people of assorted motivations, attitudes, temperaments, needs and goals. (This is why I always loved school, though -- academics were my strong suit. People? Notsomuch.) 

I was engaged very young (at 21), and married young (just a few days after my 24th birthday), and had my Offspring young as well (at 25 and a half, 27 and a half, and just a bit after 31 - getting old there!). I was able to hide my social insufficiencies behind the roles of "Fiancée" and then "Wife," plus "Mother". And overlapping with that time, I spent many, many years telecommuting, so my interactions with other people were often very limited. I did not need to learn more than I already knew. 

Then, there came a time when the needs of the Offspring necessitated particular activities, and I ended up having to out of my comfort zone of my usual roles. It began at the taekwondo gym, since Offspring the Third (who was being bullied in grade school) needed both the means to protect himself, and a group of peers with whom he had a sport in common. And (somewhat begrudgingly, and rather terrified-ly), I interacted with the other adults at the gym, and became Friends with some of them. And it was delightful.

As time went by, I discovered that there were cliques and whispers and problematic interactions amongst the people at the gym (and the teenagers, too), and that was my first lesson in adult heartbreak: not all people were to be trusted, and not all people were honest or forthright, nor said what they meant. Not everyone is kind. Not everyone is nice. It was a shocking and bitter lesson.

Nevertheless, the greatest good came out of that experience: I made, and have kept, my most Cherished Friend. 

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In the time since then, I have continued to work on my people skills and my people experiences. Time has shown me that my original roles of Wife and Mother were too limited: one cannot be a full person, if one exists only in relation to others. 

Children grow up and become their own fully-fledged human beings (and lovely ones at that, I might say, my beloved Offspring), who no longer need their Mother (as much). And as entwined as my life is with Beloved Husband's, and even though there exists in movies and literature this romantic notion that one's spouse is one's Everything, the truth is that it is both unrealistic and an unfair burden to ask one human being to fulfill the entirety of another's needs. It takes a village to raise a marriage. A spouse must have -- beyond their husband or wife -- siblings, parents, family members, and friends, to support and to spend time with, to enjoy and to enhance the human experience. Sometimes a spouse cannot (for a multitude of reasons) Be There. Other people are a necessity. 

Beyond family, there are acquaintances, colleagues, friends, professionals, and even public figures, as well as all sorts of People who impact one's life, whether directly or indirectly, either momentarily or more long-term. A world of People-ing.

I have also learned, though, not to expect much. Because People... disappoint. 

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One of the characteristics I appreciate about Cherished Friend, is the depth of his understanding of People. When I have been mystified or dismayed, I have been able to ask him Questions about People, or have been able to talk through what is perplexing me. And to his credit, he has never made me feel Stupid for my incomprehension. He has listened. And explained when necessary. 

It occurred to me today, that Cherished Friend has had what is essentially a Front Row Seat to my gradual disillusionment with People. He has seen it all: my annoyance with generic human misbehavior. My anger at Pandemic misconduct and at political shenanigans. My rage at injustice (both large, and very personal). My despair at words and happenings that have broken my heart. Rumination and loss. Everything. 

Has it been hard to witness my gradual loss of faith in Humanity? 

He is such a patient soul. 

Never did I imagine when I walked into the taekwondo gym all those years ago, that the Universe would bestow upon me there, a gift of a tiny seed of Friendship; and that over the years, that seed would be watered by innumerable tiny moments to become the sheltering tree it is now. 

He has made the sting of Life Lessons more bearable. I am so grateful.

Oceanside tree, March 2022.

Scrabble, Level Four

 While I was in Oceanside, we played four games of Scrabble. I lost spectacularly in three of the games.  The fourth was a much closer game, and I lost by only a few points (there might be some quibbling about that particular game, because the word that pushed the win was one that I identified as being legal, but it was adjacent to a Words-with-Friends legal word of the same number of points, so I consider it to be a legitimate score). It was a Most Excellent Challenge, each time.

I really do try to win. I try my best. He just sees words better. 

I look forward to more Scrabble, next time.

Eels and Lobsters

Let's reminisce about Oceanside with a few sea creature photos. Behold, the eels and the lobsters. Nice. 

Visit

 Herself speaks.

I was finally able to make my pilgrimage to Oceanside and spend a few days with Cherished Friend. 

It was delightful.  In this world of ever-increasing uncertainty, it is so comforting to find him to be Himself, as he always is. My most Cherished Friend. 

I struggled a bit to stay in the Moment during the visit. I am more aware than ever of the ephemeral nature of everything, and I had to reign in my mind and keep it from wandering into the not-too-distant-future when I would be leaving again. I also had a hard time with keeping at bay, what can be described as Fear Fleas: tiny little biting worries that would pop up into the conscious, attempting to distract me from the joy of being in Oceanside.  You are boring. You are needy. He will grow tired of your presence and will be relieved when you go. You rely on him too much. You are all take and no give. 

What do you have to offer a person like him? Why does he even put up with you? 

Only he really has answers to those questions. I hope, though, that despite all of the Very Hard Things I have been struggling with this year, he has nevertheless been able to see that he is, as always, one of my most favorite people on the planet. That listening to him talk about what is on his mind, is one of my favorite things to do. That I value his opinions, his thoughts, and his company. I don't have a lot to give right now, but I happily give what I can to him. 

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I already miss his soothing presence. I try not to think bitterly of how I would just do so much better on a daily basis if I saw him more often, because that is not To Be. I'll just have to carry little pieces of the moments in Oceanside with me, and hope they will buoy me through. I'll think about my Cherished Friend sitting in his chair, and I'll look forward to the next visit. And I hope that he will look forward to it, too. 

Barbara Manatee

Barbara Manatee. And baby manatee. 

Sometimes, Miracles Do Happen

And you DO get to go places. 

Hard Desert

There's a possibility that, if the stars align and certain things do (or do not) come to pass, that I might be able to make a trip to visit Cherished Friend soon. 

I am trying not to anticipate. Because we all know that the Universe frowns upon Making Plans. 

And I am trying, too, not to think about the fact that if I do go, I will once more arrive on his doorstep fairly exhausted, self-conscious, and feeling... Not My Best Self. Old. Fat and Tired and still Grieving my Father, worn out from work and Responsibility and Nebulous Daily Worry. A Burden.

It makes me sad. I hope that some day, I can visit him with enthusiasm and cheerfulness. As a Better Me. 

The good part, though, is that he is Rain in the Desert. And perhaps, if I can let go, I can be a Better Me for the time I spend in Oceanside. 

Teleport Dreams

Oceanside Aquarium

 Photos from an Oceanside Aquarium, courtesy of Cherished Friend (all rights reserved). 

I do love photos from Oceanside. They bridge the distance between there and this corner of the desert, and that is a marvelous thing, indeed. 

Places It Would Be Nice To Be

Lovely Oceanside

Every time Cherished Friend captures and sends an image of Oceanside, I think:

What a lovely place. I am so happy for him.

I hope, every day, that the beauty and the water and the natural life all around him, bring him some genuine moments of well-deserved Peace.

The Eyes of the Dragon

 I read a book!

It's been an embarrassingly long time since I last read a book for pleasure. Ages. Eons. 

There are many reasons: busy, tired, Life. Committing to an entire book, especially if I wasn't absolutely certain I would like it, seemed like too much dedication of limited mental resources with unknown return. 

While I was in Oceanside, though, Cherished Friend lent me a book to read: The Eyes of the Dragon (Stephen King). He explained that it was more fairy-tale/fantasy than Stephen King's other works (I do not care much for horror). Trusting in my Friend's judgment, I began reading.

I was hooked from the very beginning.

The book was well-written, easy to read, suspenseful without being uncomfortable. It flowed. The description was captivating, the plot solid, the characters well defined. What a delightful use of language. The hardest part about reading the book was, making sure I read slowly enough to savor every word. 

I continued to read the book on the way home from Oceanside -- it was extremely helpful while trapped in Limbo in a city In Between. Eventually, I got to forty pages remaining. After I returned home, I paused before reading those last forty pages:  I didn't want the book to end, even though I wanted to know very much how the story resolved. 

Finally, though, I read the last pages. And it was an excellent resolution. The story wrapped up in just the right way (neither too-tidy nor questionably-convenient). Excellent. Well done, Stephen King.

In truth, reading the book was a lot like a visit to Oceanside: go slowly and don't rush, savor everything, take the words as they come, enjoy the moments up to and even including the very end -- even if it's sad that it comes to a close. 

I can see reading this book again. 

Scrabble

 Over the years, we have honed our Scrabble skills. Mine are still inferior, but are improving slowly.

Game one:

288 to 270 (his win)

Game two:

360 to 375 (my win)

Game three, the tiebreaker:

360 to 344 (his win)

(yes, his win, despite my having played 

a 152-point word on my very first move)

If I were asked why I like my Friend as much as I do, one very short answer -- which is both literally and metaphorically apt -- would be:

Because he plays an excellent game of Scrabble.

Kayak

 From Oceanside.

Is this what contentment looks like?

Lovely.

Limbo

 The trip to and from Oceanside requires flights with a stopover -- it's very difficult to get directly from the Desert to anywhere else. The trip out to Oceanside was mercifully uneventful. The trip back, however, has been a bit... complex. And is still ongoing. 

The first leg of the flight was fine; the bad weather had not yet arrived in the stopover city.  It blundered in shortly after the plane landed, however, and then things devolved. The three-hour layover was sprinkled liberally with gate change notifications (I think there were ultimately about a dozen); when the intended plane finally arrived, there was further delay while there was "mechanical work" performed. Then decisions were made somewhere, a different plane was identified for use, and a full terminal change was announced. The hopeful passengers moved en masse through the airport, like salmon hopefully swimming upstream: up the escalator, onto the tram, off three stops later in the new terminal. The flow of people slowed and idled at the new gate. As we waited, the giant sign over the gate unexpectedly and unceremoniously changed to CANCELLED. 

Oh, dear.

I wasn't speedy enough in the airline app on my phone to nab the one last available seat on a different flight later that afternoon. The best I could do was accept the rebooked flight the following day (today). Plan B took shape. I had a thoroughly mediocre meal at the airport, figured out a nearby hotel that was neither too expensive nor too seedy, and inwardly marveled at the submachine-gun-toting police officers patrolling the outside of the terminal while I used a rideshare app to arrange transportation to the hotel. I checked in, verified the time for the airport shuttle the next day, found my surprisingly spacious room, and shoved the coffee table in front of the locked door for good measure. Slept like a rock. Exhausted.

It's now the crack of dawn here in limbo-land. Windy, but the rain has left. Dark outside still. 

The new plane doesn't leave until this afternoon, so I am left with ample time. These hours should be well-spent processing the visit to Oceanside, here in the quiet, propped up on fluffy pillows of a king-size bed in a city In Between. Yet it is difficult to do so. There is so much. And so much of the so much is made of ordinary moments: strolling, sitting, Scrabble-ing, talking. It seems almost surreal -- a life briefly stepped into for a few days. (Where does my regular life go during that time? I do not know.) I have been trying to recall all the tiny pieces and affix them somehow in the Oceanside box in my brain. 

Inevitably, as with my last trip to Oceanside several months ago, I encounter in my mental review a minute moment that sticks, larger than life, and encapsulates the visit. The sight of a fish jumping out of the water. The sound of a squirrel rustling in a tree. The scent of the ocean on the breeze. The texture of the handmade blanket adorning the back of a couch. And I try to weave a spell around that moment, to save it for use as a Patronus. The spell must be strong, though, because the moment is strong and will threaten to be overpowering if it is not protected properly. I touch it in memory only for a microsecond here and there, long enough to become used to it without being burned. And the spell becomes complete. 

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The ultimate lesson, I think, is to take the magical ordinariness of a visit to Oceanside, and to apply that same lens to review my everyday, regular life. Can I find minuscule moments to form as additional Patronuses, in between the mundane of laundry and grocery shopping and cleaning the rabbits' litter boxes and the eight thousand pieces of paper at work? Can I make the ordinary into something magical every day? Appreciate all of the things -- and all of the people -- in a new way? Make my entire life uniquely enchanted?

Imagine how marvelous that would be.

It's time to try. 

Moments

As you may have guessed from the posts of the past few days, I have been visiting my most Cherished Friend in Oceanside. And the trip was all that I could have hoped for, and more. 

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The most critical part of being in Oceanside, is staying in the moment: not to dwell on the long interim between the previous visit and the current visit, not to give thought to the immediate future when parting is inevitable and the waiting time begins again, but to be, suspended in the present with -- and in the presence of  -- my Friend. And it is, surprisingly, incredibly easy to do so. 

I listen to his voice, I walk alongside him, I sit in companionable silence with him. It is all simple. All easy. And there is such beauty in being able to savor each moment. Don't look forward, don't look back. Just be. 

Indescribable: the comfort of the knowledge that, despite how I might feel about myself and my failings and flaws, he nevertheless understands my thoughts and my words and still somehow accepts me for who I am. I don't know what I have done to earn his friendship; I do not feel worthy. Yet miraculously, the Universe sees fit to allow me periodic, restorative coexistence with him. What a Grace. There aren't words. 

I don't know how to tell him how honored I am, or how thankful. There is no way to ever repay him for everything. All I can do is to try to return the gift, in kind. 

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Sometimes when Things are hard, I fear some terrible day in the future when my life has diverged from his so much that I no longer have the comfort of his sheltering tree. Hopefully when those thoughts arise, I can look back on this Post and revisit in my mind's eye the moments of this visit. And I can remind myself: don't anticipate a Loss. Be Present. Hold on to the Moments, like a life preserver. 

I wish I could show him, himself, through my eyes: to give him a moment in time when he sees that he is loved for who he is, exactly as he is. And I would hope that he could carry that moment with him, like a shield against the slings and arrows of life. To be able to provide that for him would be a Joy. 

Be well, my Cherished Friend. I wish for the very best for you, Always.

Swimming Snake