An End. And A Beginning

i am going to share a story that begins seven years ago.

wait, i take that back.  this story really starts twenty-seven years ago, when a boy met a girl and was captivated by her eyes, her energy, her strength. 

his love, kindness and attention to her was persistent enough to win her heart...a heart that had been waiting eighteen years to be won by precisely those characteristics. 

soon they were inseparable, each receiving something they needed from the relationship, and each making assumptions about what it all meant.

three years later they got married. this event occurred during an inauspicious time, in suboptimal circumstances, but their friendship helped them to press forward, mostly together, but in some ways unbeknownst to her at that time, they were also moving somewhat apart. they were quite young. this is not uncommon.

six years passed and the loveliest daughter was born to them. 

after nine years of marriage, the dearest son arrived.

life was busy, school and work demands were neverending.  there was a feeling of disconnect between them in many ways.  the girl struggled to make things better, to keep the boy's interest, to raise their children, to fill life with love and wonder. the boy loved the girl as well as he could, and worked hard to be kind and supportive, but he always felt like he was letting her down in elemental ways that he couldn't change. the girl always believed that the challenges they faced would eventually disappear. 

they did not.

time passed.  seventeen years had passed since they'd wed. one day, (we now arrive at the seven years ago part of our story), without knowing about the other, they each sat down at the very same moment, and wrote letters to the other, sharing their feelings. they had both decided that they should part ways.  

this was not what the girl expected to happen. she had put much prayer, fasting, thought and tears into this decision. she didn't know why it felt like the right thing, because she loved the boy and still wanted things to work out, but the answer in her heart was unequivocal...

...it was also without a sense of urgency.  no "when" was attached to it. she thought maybe sharing her feelings would be the beginning of a new era, a catalyst that would bring them together.  so she was surprised to learn he'd written her and come to the same conclusion.  

as they shared their feelings, they were kind. they were supportive. they decided to wait several months to proceed til it wasn't quite so challenging for the boy, who was in medical school at the time.

during that time, small shifts in their interactions happened that helped things enough that eventually they decided to call off parting ways.  the answer had been clear, but the girl thought maybe the shifts had changed the right course of action. she had hope.

things went well enough for a while, but then began to grow even more difficult. twenty two years into their marriage, they again arrived at the point where things were untenable. for six months they were separated, ultimately deciding again to part ways.  but then for a variety of reasons, she decided to stay. it was the right decision at that time, and as long as she was staying, she redoubled her efforts to do everything she could to love, cherish, serve, and support the boy, and nurture their relationship as they continued raising their darling children.  

it was a good experience, and the girl grew a lot in the process.  but there was still a part of her that was so sad. a part that simply couldn't reach the boy. and a part of the boy that couldn't reach her. but it was livable. 

by early this year, things were essentially as good as they had ever been when one day, the answer came; "now".

"now" it was time to part ways.  the girl was not prepared for this. it seemed like she could hang on a mere three years at least, til the boy was done with all his training, and their children were done with school. she would be much better off financially if she waited. they were in a reasonable place with each other. they had never fought or been acrimonious.  there was obvious logic to waiting. the girl questioned and resisted. she fasted, prayed and begged god for a new answer. the whole idea consumed her thoughts for weeks as she wrestled with it. 

one day in response to her petition to god, the words D&C 6:22-24 came to her mind.  she looked it up and read those verses, and from that moment forward, a peace filled her and carried her forward through the hardest thing she had ever had to go through.

until a solid month after it was done and over.  

only then, when things were actually official, and she and the boy were no longer legally tied one to another, did the grieving process set in. 

it occurred to her that our wise god knew if she'd glimpsed the mourning that was to come, she would have probably just decided to go back to the familiar again.  go another round or two. we have our systems for coping, we humans. she had them growing up, she had them in their marriage.  even if a situation wasn't a good one, it was known.  she was surviving. there were moments when she even seemed like she might be starting to thrive.  she could keep living that way. it wasn't a bad life.

but none of that hit her until it was over, and the boy had moved out and moved on. there hadn't been any real question in his mind about him leaving in the next few years during his training, but he admits he felt it would eventually happen.  it's certainly not an easy experience, but he admitted he's grateful she set him free. he had felt like he was living a lie for a long time but couldn't bring himself to move on because of how it would hurt her. and despite all their struggles, the boy loves the girl. still.  instead, he slowly changed, and these changes were too hard for her to assimilate, and brought them to this point. 

it was always going to be easier for the boy, she knew.  he's so beautiful. he's so fit, healthy and strong, he's intelligent and kind, talented and good. and he's a doctor who will be financially sound in a few short years. she knows his combination of traits are as rare as a unicorn in a non-magical world. girls will flock to him.

he knows she's sad, but he also believes that someday she'll be happy. he hopes someday she'll find someone who is a much better match for the person she is and the type of life she wants to have with her partner. and they both hope to make it through this transition and come out on the other side still friends. he will always be family to the girl, and she will always be someone the boy loves in a way. but it's hard right now.

so the girl is grieving. the girl is trying to move forward. the girl has noticed the hand of god in her life. it's especially manifested in the lives of their children, who have managed to navigate this transition with astonishing peace. they are thriving and progressing and not letting the situation with their parents undermine their lives.  this is the most significant blessing the girl could have ever hoped for. she has moments when she feels peace, followed by moments of being pulled under the rogue wave of grief over losing the boy. it's like a death but not as bad because he's still here and still being the wonderful father to their children that he's always been, which is of course much preferable. but it's also more complicated. 

this is the story of the past. this summer was the end of a chapter...maybe the end of a book. but it's also a beginning.  the girl and the boy spent nearly 27 years wrapped safely in a cocoon of their own making, becoming new creatures. they've finally emerged, and while his wings have dried and he's taken flight, the girl is getting there.  soon, this little blue girl will fly. 

~the end. and the beginning.~

grateful for:  god

Letter To My Younger Self

Letter To My Younger Self

Dear Little Blue,

You don't really need this letter, because you'll eventually figure all these things out on your own, but if I could share a few insights with you, I'd let you know that even though it feels like there's not a soul on earth who would really care if you ceased to exist, in just a little while that will change. Some angels will appear in your life, in the form of a school teacher, new friends, and a church leader or two. Their kindness will carry you through the next few years, and you will start to feel what it's like to be nurtured and cared for (and believe it or not, someday your sisters will be your dearest friends; maybe consider being nicer to them in the meantime).

Your sense of your identity is going to drastically evolve.  There's no way you could know yet that you're not utterly worthless, or that that's even how you think of yourself. Eventually you'll start to notice some of the internal beliefs you have, and question them. This is good.  Examining everything we believe is an important exercise in life, and requisite for growth. You'll start to feel something inside--called resonance--when things are true for you.  If you honor that, you'll be led and directed in ways that will be good for you.

Despite being told (and accepting as fact) that you're the ugliest girl in the world, in a few years you'll to meet people who don't hold that opinion of you.  It'll mess with your head a bit, but just hang in there.  In this world, appearance does matter, but really, it doesn't. Your dearest relationships will be based on the only kind of beauty that counts, that of the heart.

It's going to take years, but someday you'll forgive your parents and older sibling. They probably won't ever be a significant part of your life, but you'll find peace with that situation. Be okay with that.

Even though it's really scary sometimes, you're going to learn the most from the hard stuff you're going through, so I'm not going to tell you much, but someday you'll understand that even though you love them, some friends will move on without you. They get to. Also, you might just want to turn and walk the other way when you meet a dude named Kevin.

Throughout your life, a lot of the people you love most will lose their faith in God.  You'll struggle for a long time with your faith, too, and part of it will just be the shock that this even happens.  No one ever told you, nor did it cross your mind, that that was A Thing. Now you know, so just remember to trust what resonates within you, prove all things, and hold fast to the good. Proving requires study, thought, prayer, and righteous living. That's just how it works. Be fastidiously honest with yourself, no matter what other people believe. Eventually you'll find your own, bona fide faith, and it will be worth the effort. God really is always there with you...even when you're hiding from him.

Depression. You're going to deal with it, but it's not the boss of you. Ditto for the things you're anxious about.

When you're 18 years old, you'll meet a truly wonderful boy who will be nice to you and care for you and accept you, loose ends and all. You'll come to love each other and provide a safe harbor for each other to heal, evolve, and grow for a long long time.  Despite all that, sometimes he'll break your heart, and you'll break his...that's just how relationships go. Hold on when it seems bleak or hopeless ~ the end of this story hasn't been written yet, but no matter what happens, you will have a happy life.

The best thing about your entire life is you'll have the privilege of raising two amazing, precious children. You have no idea...I'm so excited for you, just thinking about them. I don't know how this story ends yet, but it'll be so great to experience it together!

You won't believe this now, but you are not going to be lonely. Or alone. There are unbelievably fantastic people in your future, and you will many times be simply overwhelmed with gratitude for the goodness and beauty in your life.  You're going to discover some things about yourself that will surprise and delight you, including fun interests and talents that haven't even crossed your mind yet. You're going to bless the lives of many others, and that will give you the most satisfaction of anything you do.  

It'll be a wonderful life, on a glorious planet (which you will get to explore, by the way). So be brave and strong.

With so much love,
Blue 2013

Fall Post

Hi all,
It is a sad reality that my blog has become a mostly obsolete thing. Most of the people who I know read my blog are also on Facebook, so they see the photos and the this-N-thats of my daily life. Seems a bit redundant to share the same stuff here. Not that Facebook is  anything like what a blog can be, but over time it's  become my primary source of online interaction.

Part of this is because something transpired almost five months ago that left my heart kind of shell-shocked. Since then, I haven't really had many other thoughts I could write about.  I'm not depressed, just kind of numb, like I'm sort of unable to feel things properly. I'm sure it'll pass someday, but for now, I haven't felt much like sharing what's on my mind. Perhaps someday I will.

Meanwhile, life goes on. Thankfully!  Despite my brokey little heart, I've enjoyed doing some fun things. In June, the kids and I spent a wonderful week in NYC and another great week in Vermont.  In July I took Bunch on a trip to Hawaii.  I'd been planning to take Gator, too, but one day a couple weeks before we were planning to leave, he informed me that he didn't want to go on any more trips that summer.  After checking his DNA to verify that he was, indeed, my child, I acquiesced and allowed him to stay home. My worries that he'd change his mind and wish he'd come after we were already gone never transpired, and he enjoyed being a homebody whilst Bunch and I enjoyed visiting the North Shore of Oahu and my sister's family.  Those are comparable, no?!

In August, Gator had his 13th birthday, and I made him a fantastic death Star cake. Every year I think "how am I going to top this next year?" and every year I seem to do okay, coming up with something he loves even more than the previous year… But this seriously might be the end of it, because this cake was seriously so awesome.

It wasn't too sad to say goodbye to my sister in Hawaii, because there was a good chance I was going to see her again this month...and I did!

Her husband is from French Polynesia. Every few years they make the trek back to visit his family in Tahiti and Moorea, and had invited me to join them any time they were there.  So it was just fortunate that it all worked out perfectly, and I was able to spend five days with them this month.

Tahiti and Moorea are surreal!

The first morning after arriving, my sister and I went out on a standup paddleboard and a canoe with her two kids. We were staying at his parent's home, and the ocean is in their back yard. I had my five year old nephew on my canoe, and she had her daughter on the SUP.  We were enjoying the water and the morning when we suddenly saw whale spouts nearby.  It was the most incredible thing! A momma humpback and at least one calf (seemed like there must have been two...but if not, that kid got around!) were hanging out in the ocean out behind the house, and we spent a couple hours with them.  It was so magical! I was super bummed that we didn't have a camera to capture them jumping into the air, looking at us with their big, beautiful eyes, displaying fins and tails, spouting off.  It was otherworldly.  There were people on boats nearby taking pictures. I was definitely jealous.

Photo of me and my nephew and one of our whale
friends from the Tahitian newspaper

Then this week something amazing happened: someone on the boat was connected to the local Tahitian newspaper and did an article about whale watching excursions, and they printed a photo with the story of...you guessed it...ME!

My brother-in-law's family saw it and recognized the paddle board and canoe, and sent us the picture.  I couldn't believe that my wish for a photo was granted in such an unexpected way!

All in all it was an incredible trip. Too many memories to share, but I'll leave you with just a few more photos of this amazing speck of paradise in the vast Pacific Ocean:

Over water bungalows. Quintessential Moorea

My sister and her two adorable kids

View from the house of the ocean out back. My nephew is
dancing on the sand. You can see a whale spouting ...

Scene from Moorea

The beach outside the house

The lunch truck my sisters' sister-in-law owns

Another perfect day comes to an end in Tahiti

View from the flight home of an atoll

First Flight

First Flight

“Can we puhleeeeeeeeese stop and watch the planes take off?!” 

For a few years as a young child, we passed the John Wayne Airport while driving to and from church.  Week after week I'd plead with my parents to stop so we could watch the planes.  I was mesmerized by all of it: the roar of the engines, shimmery mirage-effect the jet exhaust made in the air, and the miracle of these massive machines taking flight.   

I don’t understand why my parents ever indulged me.  Perhaps because it was something to do that didn’t cost anything, or just to get me to stop pestering them. Maybe because they concluded it was a suitable activity for the sabbath…because one day they obliged, but rather than satisfy me, it just whetted my appetite for more.  I was hooked.  

Despite all this, it never occurred to me that I would ever go on a plane myself, because I had this notion that only rich and famous people got to fly…something we decidedly were not. 

So I honestly have no idea how this all came about, but the summer I was eight years old, my parents asked if I would like to fly to Idaho and spend the summer with some former neighbors of ours.  The Morgans had moved there two years earlier and had agreed to have me come stay them.  For two months.  

“Of course I want to go!”   

Now lets pause for a moment here. I can’t fathom why anyone thought this was a good idea.  I had never been away from home before, wasn’t a particularly mature child, and I hadn’t seen or talked to these people in two years--a quarter of my life.  They were retired, their children were grown, and they lived on a small farm in a small town in the middle of nowhere.  

But they had me at fly on a plane.  I didn’t actually think the trip through beyond the flight itself.  

The big day arrived and was it was fantastic!  Everything my eight-year old mind had imagined it would be.  I got a new outfit for the occasion (a rare occurrence), and was treated to a special breakfast. It was a big deal for someone in our family to be going on a trip of any kind, but this was especially significant. After snapping a quick picture of me on the sidewalk in front of our house in my new duds with my favorite stuffed animals, all seven of us loaded into the car and drove to the airport.  

Going in to the tiny shoebox of a terminal (as it was in 1977), we handed over my suitcase and they gave me my ticket. Fairly jumping out of my skin with excitement, I said good-bye to my family. And then for the first time, I got to venture past the chain link fence onto the tarmac.  Walking to the aircraft stairs, I paused to look back up at my family who were on the second-floor observation deck waving goodbye. 

My ride was a sweet, solid yellow Hughes Airwest Boeing 727. I'd dubbed them “Flying Banana” jets and they were my favorite planes at the time. It was a thing of beauty.  I considered myself super lucky because the stewardess directed me to the place of honor on the front row!  Wearing my new sweater, and with beloved teddy bear in hand, off we went into the wild blue yonder, leaving all my troubles behind. That first lift off was a complete life-rush. What a feeling!

During the flight the stewardesses were kind and attentive to me. I was amazed that they just gave you stuff, like food, for free.  Food was always a tricky issue in my childhood; it was kind of hard-scrabble a lot, so someone making me a meal always made me feel cared for.  I adored the tiny lavatory--I'd always loved small spaces...like the forts I regularly built out of boxes, in cupboards, closets, or in the shed out back.  Everything about the plane just seemed so cool.  I stared out the window at the top-side of clouds, and was amazed at the patterns on the land below. It looked like a beautiful, cozy, patchwork quilt was wrapped around the earth. I fell in love with the view.

You know how time seems slow down to a crawl when you’re a kid?  Well I discovered that that phenomenon doesn’t hold true on planes, because all too soon the fun was over.  Toward the end of the flight I thought up one of the two complete lies I made up as a kid. I was otherwise a very honest child, but decided I could use a whopper of a story to tell my friend, who had visited Vegas many times before. ("We had to switch planes in Las Vegas on the way, and because there was so much time before we took off again, the flight attendants and pilots took me over to Circus Circus to see the show, and I got picked from the audience to feed the elephant peanuts.")  Had no idea Circus Circus was a hotel.  #busted

We landed and I told my nice stewardesses and pilots goodbye.  Mrs. Morgan was waiting for me in the terminal and helped me claim my baggage before heading out to her car. I was just getting seated when I suddenly realized that I’d left my new sweater on  the plane.  Security being slightly different back then, I raced at top eight-year-old speed straight back out to my favorite Hughes Airwest Boeing 727 Flying Bannana, where the stewardess handed me my sweater and sent me on my way again.  

We got to the farm and put my little suitcase in the attic room that I would be sleeping in with the 1970's bead curtain door.  Mr. Morgan was a character.  His name was simply the letter “K”…and was one of the few adults I wasn’t required to address in more formal terms.  They showed me around the house and then sat me down for a talk.  

“When we lived near you, we noticed that you were a pretty hyper kid.” K said.  “We think it’s because you eat too much sugar, so we’ve decided that during your  visit, we’re going to put you on a no-sugar diet.”  

Huh?!  No sugar?  No treats at all?   But Mrs. Morgan explained that she would make me special carob treats to eat when everyone else was having chocolate, for example.  I had no idea what carob was, but when she showed me it looked like chocolate, and sounded something like caramel, so I thought it might not be too bad.  I had no idea.

When they sent me outside to play, I ventured into the heat and started poking around their property.   There were a few chickens, and I made a game of hunting for their eggs…Easter in July!  It was scorching hot...a kind of heat I was totally unaccustomed to. So hot that I decided to see if I could actually cook the eggs on pieces of scrap metal lying on the ground.  How twisted would you think I am if I told you it worked, and that after they were cooked, I fed them to the chickens?

Chicken-fun aside, there just wasn’t much to do. There was a new kind of silence out there in the country.  Miles up the road I could just barely make out the farmhouse of their nearest neighbor.  It looked smaller than my fort at home from that distance.  I was an extreme extrovert from a large, noisy family, growing up in a suburban neighborhood chock full of kids, and suddenly I was very alone.  As I gazed off into the endless horizon that hot summer day, I experienced the first pangs of homesickness in my life.  

If I received a nickel for everytime I saw someone as beautiful as you, I'd have five cents.

Have you ever googled pick-up lines? Neither had I...until today. And man, there are some really BAD ones out there!


So why am I googling pick up lines?  Well, Doc and I decided to go on a fun date this weekend, pretending we've never met before.  We'll just happen to cross paths at a place downtown, where he'll see me, be smitten, and decide to pick up on me...a complete stranger. 


The rule is we can't break character, or let on that we know anything about the other person at all.  We can invent whatever histories we want for ourselves, mixing fact and fiction any way we like.   


It's going to be so much fun!  


So since this is new territory for me...I mean, really, 25 years ago when we started dating it was much simpler and I never experienced anything like this...I decided I'd better put some thought into my character for the night.  For example, what is my name? What is my life like? (have I ever been married? Do I have kids? Where do I work? Have I lived here long?)  What are my hobbies, interests? And also, how does the whole pickup-scene work, anyway? I've never thought much about it. Anyone have any tips for me?


The prospect of having a one-night-stand with my husband is so exciting I can hardly stand it!


Now to figure out how to look smokin' hot.

7923

Fun little tidbit: 

I was single for the first 7923 days of my life, and today marks 7923 days of marriage to Doc. Exactly HALF MY LIFE!

Doc hit this same milestone on Tuesday, November 29, 2011.  (Yes, he's younger than me.) (#Cougar)

Here's to another 7923! (puts us at Thursday, January 12, 2034)

One of those stories...

Friday night, I went to the opening of an art exhibit that my friend Leslie had a piece in. I was making my way slowly through the masses of people attending, when I ran into a former acquaintance (I'll call her Ally), whom I hadn't seen in a number of years. While we were chatting, a friend of hers approached, and for some reason this person looked familiar to me (though, as it turns out, I'd never seen her before).

 I asked Ally "who is that?", and when she told me her friend's name, (I'll call her Christine X), I asked "is she Steve X's sister?" Christine heard my question, and said "no, I'm Steve's wife. Who are you?"


Realizing I knew Steve, Ally introduced us to each other, and this is when I got embarrassed. Because I didn't know how they might respond to the truth. So I told them "I don't think I should  answer that question", which of course made them even hungrier to know. 

They pressed, I quickly caved.  "Well, as it turns out, Steve was the first guy I ever kissed"... the admission of which fact seemed to fill them both with crazy juicy delight.
 
Encouraged, I further explained, "I was fourteen. We met at a church dance in Newport Beach. He was cute and I was enchanted. Outside after the dance, he took me behind that mosaic wall, and then he kissed me."

Ally and Christine are both laughing now, clamoring for more details.  And since there were details to be had, I did share them.

"I floated all the way home, convinced that this kiss of course meant that WE WERE GOING TO GET MARRIED someday. I mean, naturally, he was clearly THE ONE.  So that night I wrote Steve a letter...with all the earnestness, heartfelt sincerity and oozing conviction of any newly lovestruck fourteen-year-old-fresh-out-of-junior-high girl.  And I had every intention of giving it to him, too, but I put that letter behind a photograph of the temple hanging above my cot in  the garage  for safekeeping, and eventually forgot about it because I NEVER SAW HIM AGAIN."

Ally and Christine are both hooting with laughter at this point.  And then, who should walk up but my once-upon-a-time-intended. Christine and Ally couldn't pounce upon him fast enough.

"Steve, do you recognize this person?"

And then, in what was for me the weirdest moment of all, Steve looked at me for only a few seconds and then replied "Sure I do. You're Blue.  Blue Jeuls."  (substitute my maiden name).

Shut the front door!

I thought someone must have told him before he walked up...or that he'd overheard our conversation.  But he hadn't.  He just remembered me, even though we only met once, TWENTY NINE YEARS AGO!

We chatted for a few minutes about that day and our lives since then. He and Christine are darling people, and it was fun to meet her.  He told me that three days after that dance he left for college, which is why I never saw him again.  I honestly didn't expect him to remember me, out of all the girls I presumed him to have met/kissed.  


He of course stood out for me because he was my first, and, well, because of THE LETTER--which, I should note, I didn't rediscover until I was packing up all my stuff to move out of the garage when I got married, seven years later. I pulled that photo of the temple off the wall and this mysterious envelope fluttered to the floor. After reading it, can I just say you have NOOOOOO idea how glad I was that I hadn't had the opportunity to completely mortify myself by actually delivering it to him!

In the end, I guess the only thing I can conclude from this experience is, dang, I must be a REALLY good kisser!*

How about you? Tell me your first kiss stories!!!


*or an amazingly terrible one.

Puerto Rico Redux

Last week Doc and I went on a quick get-away to Puerto Rico. We had a free round-trip ticket that we had to use or lose, so we booked his flights (I can always sit on a jumpseat if a flight is sold out, so I don't purchase tickets for myself. Does mean I'm often tired when traveling, as sleeping on a jumpseat will get you fired).

We've vacationed in Puerto Rico a few times now, so we knew it would be a perfect place to go for our short window of time ( 2 full days sandwiched between travel days), and that we'd be able to find affordable accommodations.  Hotwire.com generally serves us well when scoring deals on hotels...and this time was no exception. The Wyndham Rio Mar resort was beautiful, in a great location, and we got it for only $90 a night! I should note that in typical resort fashion, prices for everything you could buy onsite were outrageous. We literally didn't purchase anything while there, instead we got some basics at the local Amigo grocery store to eat during the day, and had a nice dinner out each night for local cuisine.

Rio Mar is directly in front of the entrance to the only rain forest in the National Park system: El Yunque.  We've hiked there twice before, once with my inlaws and once with our kids, and it's absolutely gorgeous. This time we ended up hiking for about five hours, but actually, that wasn't intentional. After our first two hikes, we were heading back to our car and took a trail unintentionally, which led us on a long path to the top of the mountain. We realized fairly soon that we were heading up, but decided to keep going. We were both glad for the experience and the beauty we enjoyed during our wanderings.

We had barely set foot in the lobby to check in to our resort when a friendly man in line behind us told us about this Mini Boat Adventure that he highly recommended. We looked into it and were grateful for the suggestion. It was FANTASTIC!  We loved having our own little boat and some time on the open ocean and snorkeling around some reefs and exploring the little islands.  The guides took all the photos of us from that day, and we had such a great time free-diving and seeing the sea life.

We love Puerto Rico and have enjoyed many wonderful outings during all our visits. The Bio Bay is one of the most magical experiences we've ever had. We've visited the Camuy Caverns and drunk from what was once believed to be Ponce De Leon's Fountain of Youth (I will never die. Or at least avoid aging...not sure how these things work.). Visited Arecibo Observatory and the largest radio telescope on earth. Toured San Juan and all the old forts and historical sites. Spent some time in Ponce, and a few days on Culebra Island where we rented a boat and had some amazing snorkeling and diving experiences.  

Puerto Rico is what it's name says, a port rich in beauty and history and wonderful experiences. I highly recommend it!

Ex-Boyfriend Encounters. Sort-of.

Hi lovelies! A friend did a blog post today about running into ex-boyfriends and asked us to share our ex-boyfriend stories. I've had a few awkward encounters, but this one, while not entirely about an ex-boyfriend of mine, was one I thought worth sharing.

I had recently turned eighteen years old when a woman I had been babysitting for off and on for six years asked if I could watch her kids overnight.  I really liked their family, so I agreed to it.

I got to her home and we were catching up a bit before they left on their getaway, and she asked if I was dating anyone.  I told her about a guy I’d just met, who I'll just call "Dave". We hadn’t gone out yet, but Dave had gotten my phone number and said he’d call me. 

Turns out she knew him, and upon hearing this asked, “Do you know how old he is?” 

 

Now, Dave did strike me as older than any other guy I'd gone out with, but that didn’t really bother me at the time because I (naively) fancied myself super-mature and able to hold my own with anyone. Besides, he was quite good-looking, in that George Clooneyish kind of way. The type that could have claimed any age within a twenty-year span and you could credibly believe it. Also, he seemed to be well-off, based on his car and wardrobe...which had it's own kind of appeal.  The fact that he was older and still single was probably just indicative that he was looking for the right woman. And lo, that might just be me, I reasoned.

In fact, Dave himself had asked me how old I thought he was when we met (which was at a church singles dance). I admit I was low-balling it to be polite when I said 29, to which he replied “Close. I’m 31″.

I hadn’t ever dated a man that much older than me (Would have been jail bait till just a couple months before.) (Though not, actually, because I was, after all, a virtuous Mormon girl.)

So I told the friend I was babysitting for “He’s thirty-one″, to which she laughed out loud and shared the following story, related to her by her sister Karen, who knew all the parties involved:

Karen had gone to school and worked with Dave for many many years and knew him well. When he was in college, Dave had a girlfriend named Jane for a couple years. Jane loved Dave and wanted to take their relationship to the next level, but it seems Dave was something of a ladies' man, and when it became clear that he wasn’t interested in settling down, they parted ways and life moved on. 

Jane met and married a wonderful guy, and they raised a family together. One evening Jane’s daughter, now 19 years old, was upstairs getting ready to go out on a date. The doorbell rang, Jane opened the door, and was surprised to see her ex-boyfriend Dave, whom she hadn't seen in twenty-four years, standing there.

Dave, upon seeing Jane, seemed flustered, and stammered out a greeting followed by some lame excuse about "just being in the neighborhood and thinking he’d stop by and say hi and see how she was doing", but that "something had come up and he had to go". He wished her well and abruptly left.  "That was bizarre", Jane thought to herself as she shut the door.

A few minutes later her daughter comes downstairs to wait for her date to arrive. A little time passes, the date hasn't shown up. Jane asks her daughter "Who are you going out with tonight?"  Her daughter tells her the date's name. 

Sure enough, it's Jane's old college boyfriend, Dave.  Dave, who who was still out there, playing the field, chasing one girl after another for all these years, while a whole lifetime had passed for Jane as she raised her family. 

Needless to say, after hearing this story from my friend, who informed me that Dave was actually forty-eight years old (!), I didn’t return his call when he rang to ask me out. But I couldn’t avoid him a couple months later when he cornered me at the punch bowl during another dance. 

“You didn’t return my calls!” he says with a flirty grin. 

“You lied to me about your age”, I stated, looking him straight in the eye. 

"Yeah, I heard you found out about that", he cheekily responds “But how could I tell you my actual age when you thought I was 29?” 

“How can you attempt to start out any kind of relationship with a flat-out lie? To say nothing about what on earth a 48 year old would want with an 18 year old. Let me guess. Was it my keen mind that fascinated you?” 

A few months later I met the guy who would eventually become my husband…he was 5 months younger than me, and it probably wasn’t my keen mind that fascinated him, either, but at eighteen, that was understandable. At least he wasn't two years older than my father!

So, tell me your ex-boyfriend encounters. Any good ones?

India: Part 2

Three months ago, I ran at a flat-out sprint from the NYC subway, to the JFK Air Train, from the Air Train to Terminal 5, through security, and finally reaching the departure gate for my flight home,  just as the agent was preparing to shut the door.  Whew!

Grateful to have made it (after grossly miscalculating how much of a delay there would be getting to the airport due to the NYC Marathon that day), I sank breathlessly into my window seat, while apologizing to the two people next to me that I'd just climbed over, who were no doubt hoping that they'd have the row to themselves. (I always feel guilty when I get a window seat and a paying customer is in the middle.) (I have often offered to switch seats, when I'm feeling compassionate.)  (I was completely exhausted that day, and had firm plans to sleep the entire way home.) (That didn't happen.)

We struck up a conversation, the three of us, and in a singular occurrence in all my flying (which is eleven years this month) (!!!!), we ended up talking the entire flight.  Our conversation continued through deplaning, down to baggage claim, then outside till they got in a cab for their hotel.

Turned out V and M (as I'll refer to them here) were newlyweds, and they'd been enroute for about 26 hours at that point, traveling from their home in India where where he is from and where they now live, to the states where she is from.  

When I found out they were coming from India, I of course lit up. In fact, I likely started gushing.  "I love India! I love the food, the people. I've loved the movies and plays set in India that I've seen. I've read books by Indian authors. I don't know why, but I just love India." (which love commenced as described in my last post). 

Meeting them was serendipitous because, as an American woman who had traveled around India, and who now lives there, M is uniquely positioned to give me tips on when and where to go, what to see, and advise on the Safety Factor (which became a concern for me after watching Slumdog Millionaire). She's also a Mormon, like me, so we had that additional connection.  I got out my laptop and began taking notes on everything they said, presuming this was my one big chance to get an inside scoop.

I don't know if I've ever been more captivated than I was during those hours that we flew across the continent, sharing their hummus, salsa and chips (grateful, as I was completely starving) and learning about how they met (at at TED Conference of all places! I'm crazy about TED talks...as my regular readers may know), and getting to know them.

And then somehow, early in the conversation, I discovered something amazing:
V grew up knowing Mother Theresa. 

I was actually SITTING NEXT TO someone who had not only met, but KNEW Mother Theresa!  (I shook his hand, so if you like, you can be 2 hand-shakes away from shaking hers.) 

V's grandfather had, as it turned out, managed all the finances for Mother Theresa's organization for many many decades, and is still involved even though she passed away in 1997.  I couldn't believe it. I briefly mentioned my dream, and he shared some anecdotal stories with me that he knew about her.

I painted a miniature picture of my peacock.
This is actual size.

The time flew quickly by.  When we landed, V pulled our bags down from the overhead bin, and then surprised me by presenting me with a blue velvet box. "We have a gift for you" he said, handing it to me. How they could have a gift for me when we'd just met on the plane was apparently beside the point. Inside was a beautiful silver peacock figurine. I have always loved the colors of the peacock (beta fish, too), and this little guy was so pretty.  What a thoughtful gesture!

We exchanged contact info, vowing to keep in touch. They invited us to visit them in India, which increases the likelihood of me going there exponentially, (I enjoy knowing people in the places I visit. Adds depth and richness to the experience.) and we parted ways. I assumed it would be quite some time before we saw each other again.

But happily, an opportunity presented itself just last month. V had to come to the states again, and we had the pleasure of starting off 2012 by hosting him during his visit. 

We had a wonderful time, going for a hike in our lovely canyon, visiting the lights at Temple Square, eating gelato, and just learning more about him, his lovely wife M, and India in general. Both of them are now on the list of people I know who are doing amazing things with their lives. Who make a difference in the world (it's quite an impressive list). 

It fascinates, inspires, and also frustrates me...since I can't seem to zero in on what direction to focus my energies, to still be stumped about what course I should pursue with my free time, and with the next phase of my life (which will be upon me in six short years when Gator graduates). But a conversation at dinner one evening gave me a tiny glimpse into one way to figure it out. I asked V, "how did you decide to get involved in and do the specific things that you are doing with your time and resources?" 

Bunch, V, and Doc on our hike in Millcreek Canyon

(note: I had researched him before he came to stay with us...a point I admitted to him openly since I knew I'd want to ask him about them, and also to let him know that I'm not in the habit of bringing random people into my home who might be creepers, even though there was honestly no possibility of that with him...you just know when you meet some people. You know? Should also note that M has an impressive record of actively making the world a better place, too. They're quite a pair. In my searching, I had discovered an array of things that he is involved in that he'd likely never have mentioned himself because of his modest nature.)

Anyway, his reply was the first thing that has given me a glimmer of insight: "I think it primarily comes down to the experiences I've had in my life, because of my family, and what I was exposed to." 

This comment brought to mind a statement made by a man named Henry Eyring, about a time when he was taught that our experiences aren't just for ourselves, and was instructed to "write them down" so he could share them with others.  

This led me think that perhaps my experiences, those things that I have learned and
gone through that have shaped and formed me into the person I am today, maybe those are somehow connected to what I should do with the next phase of my life. 

I had a lot of momentum a few years ago when I began writing a memoir (inspired by Jeanette Walls The Glass Castle, because her book really changed my life), which fizzled out for a number of reasons that I won't delineate right now, but a big one is that I still have work to do on that journey of healing. But perhaps something in that realm, using what I've gone through and overcome to help others in the same situation? I don't know for sure yet, but it was nice to have some tiny spark of inspiration.

I gave the miniature painting of Philippe the Peacock to V and M, as a thank you/reminder of our serendipitous encounter and the resultant friendship.  I'm hoping that in the next year or so we'll be able to make it over to see them and experience India first hand (maybe someone will be able to teach me how to make naan and cook makhani and tikka masala sauce to rival that found at my favorite restaurant, Bombay House) (and maybe I'll get to have my own, bona fide Mother Theresa experience).

And that's the story, people. You just never know what's around the bend, do you?

India

I have a kind of crush on India. The first time I had anything to do with India was about thirteen years ago.  We were living in Chicago while Doc was working on his Ph.D.  One night I had a dream...one of those exceptionally vivid dreams that (at least for me) are so rare. Most nights, whatever dreams I may have had fade away and are long gone by the time I awake. I'll go years without being aware of any dreams whatsoever.  

But this night was strange and unique. In my dream I was shadowing Mother Theresa as she went about her work in the slums of Calcutta, and I was REALLY excited (in my dream) because I knew that at the end of the day I was going to find out the answer to a burning question that had been (in my dream) plaguing me, which is, How does an essentially selfish person like me become like her?  I.e.,  how does someone get from a life that is good, to a life of greatness, as measured by the condition of one's heart?  And I was SO excited to know (in the dream) that at the end of the day I'd be given this secret information.  

So we worked, Mother Theresa and I, side by side all the day long, and then it was time. She told me that my answer was going to be given to me as soon as I went through a particular door, and ushered me toward it. I reached out to open the door,

and then I woke up. (you totally didn't see that coming, did you? Neither did I.)

Anyway, I was SO upset! As soon as I awoke, I tried desperately to claw my way back into sleep, back into this fascinating dream, to rewind and let myself pick it up again, anywhere, that would lead me back to the door and to the answer to this important question (that, until my dream, I had never wondered about before).  

But I never did get there.

Mother Theresa with some of her children.

Now at that time, I wouldn't have been able to pick Mother Theresa out of a three-person line up. I honestly knew nothing about her, except that she worked with the poor. This dream had so much information in it that I had never known before. It was in every way vivid and realistic...with smells and sights that were totally out of my experience in life.  It was kind of freaky, honestly.

I remember mentioning it to my neighbor and dear friend, Ann, and it was her reaction to my dream that impressed upon me that it was a kind of significant dream. I had never (and kind of still don't) attached any special significance to dreams...though I've had a handful of them in my life that seem like they are kind of in a class of their own in terms of information or meaning. But it was this dream that started my (continuing) crush with India. 

I read all the books I could find at the time about Mother Theresa, none of which were that compelling in my opinion. Though I gained some factual information about her life and work, they were missing the heart somehow. They didn't manage to inspire or motivate one to action of any sort...which is what I think I was expecting or hoping they'd do.

My disappointment about waking up before making it into The Room With The Answer was mollified another night not too long afterward, when I was up with my crying baby.  Pacing the moonlit room, I noticed a book on my piano, open to a song which I hadn't taken particular notice of before. As I gently bounced my baby in my arms, the words jumped off the page and into my heart.  It wasn't a huge mystery, this answer I sought.  It was something I'd been taught my whole life, summed up nicely in the words of a children's hymn:

I’m trying to be like Jesus; I’m following in his ways.
I’m trying to love as he did, in all that I do and say.
At times I am tempted to make a wrong choice,
But I try to listen as the still small voice whispers, 

“Love one another as Jesus loves you. Try to show kindness in all that you do.
Be gentle and loving in deed and in thought, For these are the things Jesus taught.”

I’m trying to love my neighbor; I’m learning to serve my friends.
I watch for the day of gladness when Jesus will come again.
I try to remember the lessons he taught. Then the Holy Spirit enters into my thoughts, saying

“Love one another as Jesus loves you. Try to show kindness in all that you do.
Be gentle and loving in deed and in thought, For these are the things Jesus taught.”

Love. Kindness. Gentleness. Remembering. Serving. The simple, everyday things. The stuff of life. The things we can all do, for everyone we encounter in some small way, even if it's just letting your eyes smile into another's. It took my strange dream to start thinking about this in a new way.

That dream was just the beginning of my India Crush. It would be another seven years or so before I discovered Indian food (oh my word! chicken makhani, tikka masala, naan, basmati rice...I Love You Most Of All!), and slowly, other aspects of India would find their way into my life until I found myself fascinated and both enchanted and terrified of the whole of India (but mostly fascinated.)  (I saw Slumdog Millionaire on a plane...hence the the enchanted and terrified part).

Perchance To Dream

Last Friday, Doc took the day off work and the two of us flew to Long Beach for a little overnight get-away for my birthday. It was absolutely wonderful! 

Dodge Charger

We got this ridiculously amazing deal on Hotwire.com at the five-star Island Hotel in Newport Beach, so our accommodations were superb in every way, particularly because one thing on our agenda was going to the 103rd annual Christmas Boat Parade around Balboa Island...which was just a mile away.  Perfect!

I always reserve economy rental cars, but when we got to Alamo, they upgraded us to a sweet set of wheels. I've never had a car without a key before.  And talk about acceleration! This was a fun ride.

Tunnel through the rocks

Saturday we went to Treasure Island Park, which is a beautiful stretch of coast in South Laguna. We loved exploring the beautiful gardens and rocks along the shore. It was low tide, so we hiked out on the rocks where we were surrounded by ocean, and just talked for a couple hours with the air and the smells and sounds of the sea filling us up and making us feel peaceful.  Ahh, dear ocean, I love you!

Looking inland from the rocks, accessible because it was low tide.

"What are your dreams?", Doc asked me as we sat, mesmerized by the ocean.  I paused for a while before answering, because I wanted to check in with myself.  Do I currently have any dreams? I wondered.  Growing up, my greatest dream was having a happy marriage and family. Really, that was all I wanted in my life, and while it takes effort to maintain, that dream has pretty much come true. But I never really had aspirations beyond these two things.

Sometimes opportunities have presented themselves and I've seized them.  Like when I became a flight attendant eleven years ago - that has been a very happy thing in my life. I also tend to get excited for other people and their dreams, happily signing on to support them in lieu of chasing my own dreams.  For example, it's taken a lot of effort to put Doc through his Ph.D. and then, later, going to medical school, but I don't regret any of the sacrifices it's taken to help him get to this point.

Doc & my sis. They're actually so much alike it's scary. And wonderful.

YMMV but it seems like there has almost been a movement towards not just having dreams, but having BIG DREAMS. People SHOULD have an admirable dream! You are wasting your life otherwise. 

So lately I've almost felt guilty about not having a big dream that I'm actively working towards.  Everyone around me seems to be, so what the heck is my problem?!

Doc didn't ask this question to pressure me. He's just genuinely curious, and supportive of me in pursuing worthwhile things.  He recognizes that some people (me) tend to be more process-oriented, while others are seem to need a specific goal that they're actively pursuing. Their dreams may fulfill any number of purposes, such as:

• Making their lives meaningful - by making a difference in the world whether large-scale or small. Starting a charity, volunteerism (eg: school, community counsel, church, soup kitchen), doing God's work, finding a cure for the common cold, etc. They want to leave a legacy behind them.
• Self-improvement - eg: become healthier (lose weight, work out more, eat healthier), acquire education (get a degree, take piano lessons, learn to scrapbook, bake, cook etc), find a partner (romance goals), all things that make them more accomplished and self-confident.
• Have lots of fun - such things as travel the world, go in a hot air balloon, be a guest on Oprah.  The pursuit of fun, unique, interesting experiences. (It seems these kinds of goals are wildly popular.)
• Negative motivation - like proving to someone else that you could do something, eg: those kids who were mean to your nerdy self growing up, doing something impressive so you can show them. This kind of goal can still bring about positive results, even though it's not the best starting point.
• Goals that you set because you need to - like learning to walk and talk after a stroke, quitting smoking BECAUSE it's KILLING YOU, or training as a stenographer for a new career as a court reporter. 
• General goals or aims, such as "eat healthier" or "spend quality time with my spouse and kids", or "be an optimist - accentuate the positive in life"...and doing these kinds of things can help improve one's overall life, but they tend to be less accountable. (These are the kinds of "goals" I've generally had.)

Though once upon a time I was a person with modest aspirations, they have all either come to pass or didn't come to fruition, and I never zeroed in on new goals. Hence, I've landed in this place of not really doing much good with my life the last while (few years?). 

Now granted, during this time I've been working hard to heal from the past, and fending off depression can be a major goal/dream/aspiration/pursuit killer. But there's no point in waiting till I'm "better" to have dreams I'm working on. I love how Leonard Cohen put it in his song Anthem:

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.

So I've (again) begun thinking about goals and dreams.  I've watched this gorgeous message, and am hoping to identify what it is that I actually want. There are lots of things I'm pretty good at or that other people have suggested, but they haven't moved me to action. I'm sure that fear is the primary reason I am kind of stuck. Some of my dreams have been dashed, but rather than move on, I've felt sorry for myself and stopped trying, so as to avoid failure. How crazy is that?!  Also, I can be pretty lazy. 

I'm not yet sure what my dreams are. But I'm starting to zero in on the subject. I think I have a pretty good sense of the person I want to be generally (those General Goals mentioned above)...thoughtful, grateful, nice, honest, loyal, faithful to truth. I want to turn weaknesses into strengths, create happy memories for people I love, be a parent to and friends with my kids forever, and grow really old with my sweetheart while never losing the spark of love that we have. That would be a life well-lived. But in addition to these basics, I know there is room for me to soar.

Holiday Crimson Amaryllis

My darling bestie Keri sent me a gift this week for my birthday. Her note said "Sometimes beauty takes time. This is your year, Blue" 

It's an amaryllis, and it didn't come with instructions on how to make it bloom. Neither did I, but between all the resources out there, and the lovely people around me, I know that if I choose to, I can find and reach any dream I make.

Shakespeare asked well when he said: 
To be, or not to be, that is the question. 
I want to be.  And, perchance, to dream. 

Merry Christmas to you!
xoxo 

PS: (Did you click that first link? If you click nothing else, promise yourself that you will take just 10 minutes of your life and watch it. You won't regret it UNLESS YOUR HEART IS A PETRIFIED ROCK. I've watched it at least 15 times so far. Thank me later...preferably via a comment.)