Sailing Away

I started this post about 6 months ago after I watched a video called "Stories from the Stage" one of my newer loves is someone standing up in front of total strangers and telling a bit about them self. That day a woman of about my age told of wanting to quit everything to live her dream and after much anguish she did. Since I am the reliable steadfast type it is hard for me to imagine sticking my neck out that far. I mean I wouldn't have a steady paycheck or insurance. How could I be so reckless?
My dream would be to sail a sailboat up the Mississippi River and then the Ohio River. Why? Because it is something my dad talked about when we were kids building a boat and sail it up to Ohio and see if he could get all the way to where his brother, my Uncle Chuck lived. That was from when I was less than 10 years old. Uncle Chuck died when I was in middle school but I have never forgotten that my dad wanted to do that. Maybe it was his dream to get away but more likely with him it was to prove that he could do it. That is why I do most of the things I do. Just so I can prove to myself I can do anything I put my mind to.

Dad did build that sailboat in our driveway as kids. We used to sit on the deck in the driveway sunning ourselves. We have pictures of every step of the building process from plans. First the wooden frame and then he built the fiberglass hull and created something from nothing. He had a party when the hull was finished to flip it over. I can't remember how many guys it took to get the hull flipped from upside down to right side up in a cradle that still holds it today.. That boat moved from one driveway to another at least 3 times.  That boat has never floated. It has never quite been finished and now that I am well past the age which he started it still seems like a project that needs to be finished and honestly I have no idea what it would take other than hard work.

I think about the sailing adventure and stopping along the way and meeting new people and having old friends visit me as I travel along. I have watched plenty of movies about sailing adventures and most don't end up as the sailor expects. There is always that unplanned hurricane, crashing into a cargo container or the mast breaking. These are scenes from one of those movies Brian wouldn't watch All is Lost. Now the title does kinda give away it isn't gonna be the best trip ever. But it is one of those movies that there is no dialog except for a few expletives that Robert Redford says to himself. Even though this isn't a movie about visiting lush islands and sinking barefoot into the sand as you jump off your boat on a tropical island. It is about how things can go.

In the months that have past since I started this I found a book by an author that I really liked his first book that I read Blue Highways by William Least Heat Moon. I really love travel adventures. Finding places you have never been and then going. Another thing I have in common with my dad. Since his retirement every few years there is a trip that lasts a month or so. He plans from the time one trip ends until the next starts. I am not sure which part he likes more planning or doing but when he does it he goes all in and lives the life. Well William Least Heat Moon has a newer book called River-horse about crossing the United States by boat. Trying to use rivers and interior bodies of water. I read the first chapter online the other day and ordered the book.At the beginning he speaks of his road atlas the way some would speak of their favorite book. It may be taped together but it can not be replaced.

It is like I tell Brian just because we don't know where we are we aren't lost. I love turning the corner and finding a new way to get somewhere. Maybe one day the boat will be finished and I can sail it.

I am ok

I find it sometimes funny how life is going along and then I am smacked in the face (figuratively of course). But in that moment I go from cruising along to worrisome mode. Now for people that don't see me everyday they may be concerned that this is my usual state. It is just as fast that my way will be found out of the funk and back to smooth sailing. I just don't know when the moment is coming and I sure don't know where it ends. That would make life simpler if I could say well if I get through Tuesday I will be good. I couldn't do that with my period I guess I shouldn't be able to do it with anything else either. Funny 20 years ago I wouldn't have shared that but it doesn't matter. I feel like today whatever I can share of my life that makes someone else look at theirs and say I got this. It is all worth it. It won't make my life easier not sharing and it doesn't make anyone else's life easier really just a little hope that we can do this.  Well these things that cause the worry and sadness are just everyday things that happen in life. They just kinda roll up together and all of a sudden I was fine and now I am not.

I still think the same positive thoughts they just sometimes lose out to the little guy on my shoulder going are you kidding Jeanne. It ain't turning out your way. Look at this way. Some sort of surprise or grief or loss of some sort starts this ball and it truly can be anything just as it could be anything that rights this boat and gets it back on course.

An example: Last year Brian and I were flying to North Carolina for his mother's birthday. The whole day I was just think it is going to be ok Jeanne. But it didn't matter as much as I thought it there was some other part of my brain that was going no it isn't. So the weather was terrible and the sky as we got closer to Asheville was really dark and we circled and circled and in a split second the pilot floored it and we were not landing. My entire body sighed in relief as we flew away from there. Next thing we here the pilot say we have been diverted and are heading to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. I was like cool. Never been. I am pretty sure I was the only person on the plane not upset that we didn't land as we should. Now this diversion cost us about 3 hours and they gave us a drink and gassed up the plane and when the weather cleared we were back to Asheville. We got to Brian's parent's house just before 9pm and I was happy as a clam. It was the first time I had ever noticed the switch from worrying and ok so quick. I am sure some shrink has a technical term for what happened. A chemical shift in my brain but it was that quick and the not worrying stuck for quite a while.

Just a weird thing that happens that I feel like I am the only one in the world it happens to or maybe just the only one that notices it happening.

So as they say this to shall pass. Hopefully soon. I just start doing all the things that help me to feel better and one day I will not be worrying so much soon. Until then I just remind myself that I am ok.

Our differences are our similarities

Whenever I can't sleep at night the first thought that comes to my head is "it's 3 o'clock in the morning and it looks like it's gonna be another sleepless night."  For those of you that don't know the lyrics to Crystal Gale's Talking in your sleep, it is one of those songs from the 70's I love. And looking that up I had no idea how many songs had to do with being up in the middle of the night. Well at this point it is 6 o'clock in the morning and it is freezing. Literally freezing. When I woke a hour or so ago to the sound of the heater trying to heat our freezing little house, Brian said it was 34 degrees outside and dropping. I have now gotten up and lit the fireplace. Which seems to be where I start a lot of the the time.

Since most of you have never been to our humble abode, we keep the computer in the front room of the house. It is surrounded by windows which I love but the real reason is it is just on the back side of the living room through an cutout that I think used to be the front window of the house. I like the light and I remember reading a long time ago that when you have kids in the house the best place for the computer was somewhere that everyone is. Not that we have kids but I always thought it was a good idea not to be sitting off in a room by yourself on this thing for hours at a time. So next to the desk I sit at is a small filing cabinet. One of the many possessions of my aunt's that I was "blessed with" as my mother likes to say.

My Aunt Jan. She was my mother's older and only sister. 3 years older than mom but in someways could not be more different. Same goes for the way I have always thought of her and I. Jan that is. Now for the differences she was tall and thin and had very short hair. Me not so much, not at all tall or thin and have always worn my hair longer but usually back in a pony tail which my sister tells me I should just cut it off if I am never going to where it down. But that is just how I like it.

So this was the rub. When we were kids I can remember a few specific times that she asked me why I was fat or remarked about my weight. Now when I say I was a kid I know I could not have been more than 11 or 12. So that has always left that mark that I was not good enough on me. Now she was very intellectual and might have thought that this question would start some sort of dialogue while I was riding in the car with her for hours because that is where she said it. When her and I and my grandmother were on a trip together. See when I was a kid my aunt and grandma were in the antique business and did mall antique shows. And there is nothing like being the grunt labor to help pack in and pack out the show and sit for untold hours in a mall somewhere you have never been before. The upside was an ice cream cone at some point in the afternoon when you thought your head was going to explode from boredom. Which meant only a few more hours to go. The best part was when my sisters and I would be there together and we would try on rings and bracelets from the jewelry case. And show off to each other what was our favorite. But only take out one thing at a time and keep those cases closed was usually what my aunt or grandmother would tell us.

So see I always thought her mean for saying things to me about being fat. Maybe that sounds harsh since she is not here to defend herself but I will do that as well because you know I try not to leave a negative light on anyone. Especially someone that is no longer around to defend herself and her words. See Jan passed away from cancer when she was my age over 20 years ago. Ovarian Cancer. Now for a woman to die at this age that I now think young but when I was 23 it was a lifetime away. I did not see many similarities. She had gone to college and travelled the world. She never married after college lived with her parents and I would have said before I opened this file cabinet that she really didn't have any friends. Now the antique business was not the only thing she did. She was a school teacher. Not an ordinary school teacher but she taught what was then called ELP. Enhanced Learning Program. This was something that she had us all tested for our IQ and my brother and I were in ELP together. It was one of those once a week programs got you out of regular class and learning some cool and different stuff. Learned to play chess which I have forgotten and how to write Haiku (which I just had to look up how to spell) but is a form of Japanese poetry that doesn't rhyme. No we did not have her for our teacher. It was enough that we would sometimes have our mom for a substitute PE (physical education) teacher. She also was the one that got my grandmother to invest in real estate which was very good for them. I will tell that story another night.

When I opened one drawer the first thing I saw was antique brochures and news paper articles. They also owned an antique shop on the beach in the building that they owned. She wrote a column for the Beach Views the beach newspaper. I opened the other drawer and there was travel information and letters and post cards from Monestaries. Hmm. I thought I know Jan had a friend that was a priest. I have emailed him a few times. He had sent my grandma a card with an email address and she had asked me to write him. So I did. Have not heard from him in years and not to long ago found the card with the email address on the desk. Of course a Christmas card with a scene of Mary on a donkey with Joseph in the night walking toward a manger. Not an important detail but one I remember anyway. Also papers she had written. So one day this week I decided in that spare time I have now between when Brian leaves for work and when I need to go I was going to pull out a folder or two and take a peek at what has been sitting here for more than 10 years. As for the travel she travelled the world. She went to the Galopogos Islands, China and Africa and Ireland. She also took 2 of my sisters and myself to Cumberland Island, Ga. A place I have written about before. A place I want to take my own nieces and nephew. Maybe this summer. Which made me think of how I feel about Jan and how they feel about me.

So as I read I found similarities between her and I. I know all you would be psycologists that was what you were expecting. She wrote about events in her life. Incidents. If she had had a computer she might have had a blog. She was religious. Now this I knew. More Churchy than me but as I read some things were similar. I have always thought myself faithful not really religious. But I found that she to took issue with the established church sometimes. As I looked at the newspaper clippings yes there was one about childhood obesity I would have expected nothing less. But she also had a picture of Phyliss Diller that had a quote basically saying don't give up on your dreams. Hmm. Again. Dreams. I would have not took her for a dreamer. She to me was a do'er. Always going somewhere doing something. But as I read her writing she seemed she must have had times to contemplate her life and it's meaning and purpose. And those letters well her and her friend the priest had been writing back and forth for 10 years. He had lived at different monestaries which is what most of the post cards were from. She must have shared her questions she had with her life's path. He assured her that God would lead the way. Her last trip she took was to Ireland where he was at that time. The other night I read what may have been the last letter he wrote her. She was in the hospital after surgery. He was assuring her that she had to keep the faith and God would see her through this. I don't think he used the word cancer. She would have. Because she was always very matter of fact. Which looking back at myself I used to be that way. I did not see the truth as cruel when I said it. Maybe that was how she looked at asking why I was fat.

My mom told me the other night that after she was sick my mom offered to travel with her back to Ireland but she declined. My mother knew that priest was important and so was Ireland. Of course we have Irish herritage. Supposedly one of our great-great-great grandfathers and grandmothers was from Ireland. They came over and lived in Louisville before the Civil War. That same great-great-great grandfather actually died in a Civil War battle in Perryville, Ky. Jan wrote a book about it. Another project to get it published or at least self publish to give copies to the nieces and nephews.

So where does this leave us. Out in the cold? No. The sun is up and Jan and I are not so different. Yes our paths very different. I feel like she lived a full life. I am sure she would not agree.  But I am also childless 40 something trying to create a legacy for my sisters kids. Who like me at there age are not very interested. I write the words that one day they might find insight into their actions from mine. How family is family and sometimes like I have said before the thing you don't like about someone else is sometimes a reflection of yourself.

I may try to email the priest again. I wonder if he still has all the letters she wrote?