Leaving Home, Going Home
I’ve been thinking about the past when I didn’t understand people’s behavior. When I had a committed relationship (pre-gay marriages) and discovered what single people weren’t aware of. The same happens when I became a parent and had to learn what the various stages of my child’s growth meant in terms of responsible parenting. And now it’s happening again.
By most everyone’s standards I’m “older,” at minimum a senior citizen if not actually “old.” I’m over 65, have gray hair, and get the body aches and pains that come with trying to do what my younger self could easily do. The older generation (before me) is about gone, now with the death of my stepmother at nearly 101 years old.
What I fully appreciate that my grandmother couldn’t take the summer heat, and so long after the cattle were no longer driven up the mountain to greener pastures, she spent each summer in the Lake Tahoe area. My dad couldn’t take the cold and often sat outside in the sun to warm up. Because the sun feels wonderful when you’re fully dressed, as good as when kids of all ages lie on their beach towels by the pool or ocean.
Now too, I understand why my dad disliked unfamiliar music which can seem too loud, even discordant to my ears. As my hearing decreases, the beats vibrate my inner ear louder, overwhelmingly so, while making the words unrecognizable. Thank the techie universe, that I live in a world with Closed Captioning. It’s only in live venues I suffer. Which explains why there is so few older people at concerts these days, unless they already know the songs.
I haven’t been attending loud functions for quite a while, and it’s nice to realize it’s more a function of age or in my case, the combo of age and genetics, than past behavior or genetics alone. (I’m looking at you migraines, cancer, and heart disease). I feel better knowing that I’m going through what my elders went through, even those who lived in another era.
But I digress, I’m not just writing about getting older, I’m writing about having two places that feel like home. Like my grandmother, in summer I head to cooler pastures (minus the cattle), to Florence Oregon, my summer home. In Oregon, Lucy (my chiweenie) and I stay in a place where the neighbors welcome us back, invite us to parties, and our little dogs play together.
Yet at the end of May, I again must say goodbye (temporarily) to my Northern California family, where my family has lived for five generations. I pack up the car and concentrate on where I’m headed as I drive away. It’s hard to leave my close friends, old friends, great neighbors, who I can always call or walk, bike, or drive over to see especially if I’m having a bad day. It’s not the same in Oregon
My friends in Oregon are caring, but still new to my life. Unless my phone has improved (goodbye AT&T, hello Verizon) calling isn’t easy. In fact, there were days last year when the phone had “no bars,” and even the “SOS” failed on my iPhone. Which means I always drop in on my neighbors unannounced. When Lucy and I take walks, we stop by to talk, drink some water, or play with the other doggies. We don’t take it personally if they’re busy or out. Our vacation home is in a rural area and it’s similar to the boonies where I was grew up – were homes are spread out, and the shopping area is seven miles away. In Oregon, I adore my nephew and daughter and their young families and look forward to visiting and playing with the little ones. But they have their own struggles, and I understand why my elders didn’t want to become “a burden.” A mixed dread of losing control of one’s life and a period of physical labor and emotional grief for those who would take care of us. Hopefully, that a decade away or more.
So, I’m excited. I long to be back in the peace and quiet and coolness of the coastal woods, to hear the bird song, wonder where the bears are living, watch the deer wonder through, and compete with them both for the blackberries picked fresh from the vines.
This year the summer heat is already pushes me out of my nest. Soon Lucy and I will head to our summer nest. A place where I get to play with another set of little kids, another set of dogs, while I trying to stay connected to the people I normally see and care about too.
What will this summer bring? I don’t expect anyone to get married, divorced, or have a baby, but life has so many stages, who knows what my summer home will have in store for me. Hopefully I get better at writing my newsletters! And write a portion of my next novel or a novella. Who knows! Stay tuned.
PRIDE MONTH GIVEAWAY
For those who might have forgotten ïŠ I wrote and published the novel, Surviving Sentience 2040 that launched widely on May 4. It’s available on Bookshop.org and Amazon, and through your local bookstore.
On July 12, I’ll be speaking at the Siuslaw Public Library, in Florence Oregon. More info to come.
And for my Sapphic (lesbian and nonbinary) fans, my book will be part of a June giveaway. Click the link to enter the Pride Month Book Calendar where you’ll be able to download lots of free sapphic books and mine will be free to a lucky reader on the last day of the month.
