Introspection and a lot of honking and sirens and slamming doors

I have decided to take a personal retreat. Go away for a week. To think and be introspective. I wanted the time to myself, to be alone. That is, alone among millions. 

I landed yesterday afternoon at LaGuardia NYC.  Staying at a POD hotel in Midtown. I say that like I am a local. I am not, but I've done my research and now 24 hours later, also a ton of walking.  I know from Uptown to the Villages and from Eastside to Westside. I am concentrating this trip in Midtown with a side trip to the Westside for a film.

This POD hotel concept means my room is a tad larger than a closet but affordable.  AND, most important, it is within walking of places I want to go, such as Rockefeller Center and Central Park.  I was thinking this morning it feels like a dormitory. There are so many rooms on a floor.  Most don't have their own bathrooms. Mine does. The people staying here are diverse in age and ethnicity. There definitely is an international feel to this place.  Maybe that is NYC in general.  But we are close to the United Nations and there are several consulates in the neighborhood.  My hood for another two and a half days.

I don't really get why people think New Yorkers are assholes. Sure, there's a lot of honking. A lot. But my experience has always been positive. I like them and they make me feel as though they like me in return. I know they are trained to treat tourists kindly to earn a bigger tip. I still choose to think their kindness toward me is natural.  Like when I entered apparently a no-enter zone at the airport,

"Ma'am, where are you going?"

 "Baggage Claim F."

 "It's that way," he says. Smiling I might add. And he did not shoot me either.

Some photos so far:

 Is this a man or a woman?  Discuss. I say man with breasts.

Maybe the first recorded transgender person.  So much art deco.

 

Observatory at Rockefeller Center. Top of the Rock.  The view shows more of the city than

Empire State Building observatory.  My humble opinion. You get 360 degrees.  See it all.

 I chickened out taking a picture of all the cops in front of Rockefeller Center - at the
 entrance on the other side of the iconic gold statute. They were well armed I must say.
 I don't mean that as a double entendre. Assault rifles and everything.

The ole' Pod.

Frank and Shirley Together Forever

Frank and Shirley Lochridge

I

Frank and Shirley are back together again.  As it should be.  Shirley died Feb. 9 and Frank followed less than two months later on April 1.  I think Shirley was getting things ready for her beloved Frank before she summoned him home.  Much like she would when they were living in the physical world. Toward the end of their lives together, Shirley would gently suggest Frank go for one of his many walks around the apartment complex while she readied a meal.  He would comply. When he got back, food was on the table.  Shirley would give him some small instruction, such as get the napkins out and he complied. After dinner, Shirley might suggest that he take the garbage out. He jumped on the task because the request had come from Shirley. 

For almost 70 years, these two were in concert. Through highpoints and heartbreaks, they stood together. You thought of them as a pair.  Frank and Shirley.  They were affectionate and loving toward one another.  Always holding hands.  Shirley laughed at his corny jokes.  Frank bragged on Shirley's everything.

We did not expect Shirley to go first, what with Frank having dementia and being placed in a nursing home with hospice care. But now thinking back, perhaps it had to be that way.  Frank was holding on for that last instruction from his Shirley.

 Time to come home, Frank.  He complied.



Welcome to the world, James Lawrence

James Lawrence Cole was born March 9.  He joins a most loving and fun family! How amazing when one of your own gives birth.  Humbling and reassuring about all of life. 

 Mom Jenny and sister Jodi.

 Aunt Andrea holding James.  Cousin Finley obeys Mare to look at camera.

Are you my mother?

Goodbye, Baxter

We had to let Baxter go this morning.  Arthritis had made it almost impossible for her to get around. She was in such pain.  What can I say about her?  She was ... Baxter.  Annoying much of the time.  LOUD.  Her braying during walks brought neighbors outside to see who was being killed.  She begged mercilessly for food.  If you didn't comply, she stole it. The grandchildren were favorite marks. She could pinch a hotdog out of its bun with one stealth move.  There you are, holding an empty hotdog. 

But of course what this little hound dog loved more than anything was to follow a scent. What adventures she had.  Like the time she and the late great Tex went missing. We found them about 5 miles away, three days later!!  They were camped out with some nice lady who said she let them sleep with her in her bed!  It's that beagle look of "love me."  I let her out the front door this morning for one last adventure. As if nothing was wrong, she took off, nose to the ground.  For old time's sake, she even left something for our neighbor across the street (I should probably go get that). 

Thank you little Bax for letting us love and spoil you for 13 years.  Say hi to Tex!!

Shirley Lochridge, 1927-2016

Shirley Evelyn Lochridge left us 2-9-16

In the darkened room, the sounds of Shirley's beloved Moonlight Sonata mixed with her labored breathing.  She appeared peaceful.  At peace?  Finally resting.  Just before she fell into a deep slumber I got to tell her "I love you" and hear her say it back. "I love you, too."  What a gift!   Throughout my life, especially as a child, I got privileges my brothers did not as I was the only girl out of six children.  So when it became obvious Shirley needed extra care, it fell on me. I wanted it.  With that, came the privilege of sharing her death with my immediate family.  I held my mother, my children and husband held me.  A steady stream of love poured in before her passing from children and grandchildren living out of state and out of country.  Shirley had lived in Texas a short five months.  The plan is to reunite Shirley and Frank to spread their ashes at Flathead Lake, Montana.

Shirley did not fear death.  She accepted it as part of life.  From her living will:

I ... do fully recognize that death is as much a reality as birth, growth, maturity and old age -- it is the one certainty of life.

 

Rest in peace momma.

Celebrating life transitions

This is a week of contrasting transitions in my family.

My oldest granddaughter Addie Mae started kindergarten yesterday.  Later this week my mom Shirley moves to Texas from Montana.

I've been thinking about these two events.  How serendipitous they should occur together, reminding us of the beautiful order of our lives.  Sunrise and sunset.

These two will experience many of the same feelings this week including excitement, anxiety and even sadness.  They also will share tons of support and encouragement from loving family members.

        

Happy Anniversary, Paulie!

Tomorrow, August 19, Paul and I celebrate our 37th wedding anniversary.  Go figure.

So I didn't know what to get him as there's nothing traditional listed for year 37.  Year one is paper, year two is cotton and so on through year 15.  Then it jumps by five years after year 15, which is crystal by the way.  If we make it to 40, Paul gets that ruby he's always wanted.

We recently were discussing these traditions attached to anniversaries.  Our oldest daughter and her husband celebrated their seventh anniversary last month.  Paul and I cautioned them about the seven year itch.  Neither knew what we were talking about.  Paul pointed out it was the title and subject of a Marilyn Monroe movie.  Still not a clue. 

The discussion turns to stages of anniversaries/partnerships in general and my daughter asks what happens at year 15.  I say it's the I Hate Your Guts stage. She laughed.  I hope she's still amused in another eight years.

Back to Paul's gift.  I came up with the perfect idea and found it on Amazon: Nature's Miracle Jaw Scoop!  Photo below.  Yes, a pooper scooper.  I know my man and he is going to love it. It wasn't cheap, either.  It should still be working in three years when he can use it to scoop up our rubies.