5/23/2013. - Day 58 - What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? Um...buy flowers I can't keep alive and hang out with finely aged souls. How's that?

5/23/2013. - Day 58 - What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? Um...buy flowers I can't keep alive and hang out with finely aged souls. How's that?

Thursday and Lana and I have plans for lunch with her friends, Sharon and Norma Jean. My
grandparents' friends are all sort of my friends now, as I have grown to know and appreciate each of them dearly as a part of my grandparents' life, and thus increasingly a part of my life as well. Oddly, my friends in Duluth are disproportionately of the retired population, which I am more comfortable with anyway. That age group no longer cares about status quo, fitting in or pretending to be someone they're not, and they don't fix their hair to go to the gym or do yard work. They just live. They are themselves in a pure and genuine form and I appreciate that. I have little filter and am horrible at deception unless it's in the spirit of a surprise party. I'm at home with their friend group, and enjoy time with them immensely.

After lunch, Lana and I prepared for a trek to the greenhouse, much to the dismay of my grandfather. He said something about "every year she brings more plants home" under his breath as we left.

The greenhouse was glorious, featuring multiple buildings filled with fragrant plants. I have a weakness for beautiful plants and often try to take them home in hopes that they will stay in that form. Unfortunately, they never last. I'm actually horrible at caring for plants. Even the most basic elude my efforts, with the exception of one plant I received from my elderly neighbor at my previous apartment building. I'm fairly certain she brought it up to get a foot in the door and case the place out, as well as report back to the others on my demeanor. But that thing won't die. I have no idea what it is, but it won't die. My mom and sisters are caring for it in my absence as I now feel compelled to keep it for it as long as it will have me.

Lana and I walk up and down the aisles and admire all the choices at our fingertips. We have brought my pickup as there is more room in there for pretties than in the CRV. Lana was not initially certain we should put things that shed dirt into the pickup and I assured her that is what the vehicle is for. It's for doing man's work, and this is man's work. And with that we loaded up our selections, plus one little guy I have adopted. Fingers crossed.

Later that evening we went to The Great Gatsby. I was obsessed. The era, the parties, all of it. I love it. I told Lana we should have a party like that someday, with people jumping into the pool in gowns and glitter flying everywhere. We will probably have to discuss it more. Grandpa will not be on board.

The sun sets on another day [in paradise]. Worries creep in now and then as my freedom and the open road draw to a close. In a few short days I will be home, and I will have to begin planning to be a real adult again.

5/22/2013. - Day 57 - “She knows who she is. She just forgot for a little while.”

5.22.2013. - Day 57 - “She knows who she is. She just forgot for a little while.”

― Donald Miller, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: What I Learned While Editing My Life

Today was taken up with writing, or trying to write. I feel a continual pressure to write, always, and it is especially powerful on this trip. It's there pushing and pulling at me consistently. It is one of the rare certainties in life that I know I must do. I think frequently of the quote that writers "love to have written." The part before that, the writing, is an indescribable jumble of emotions and efforts...and naps. It's exhausting, exhilarating, soulful, and just plain hard. But for those of us who feel the letters and words flow into our fingertips with an urgency to have their story told, there is no other way but directly through the wild and untamed path to a written work.

Back to the trip: When I was 25, I was going through a rough patch which was really a beginning catalyst to this entire pilgrimage. I wrote myself a letter, a letter to myself at 25, and sealed it up. One day, I wasn't sure when, but one day when I had found happiness and contentment I would open it and read about my worries and troubles at the time. I know for certain that whenever that day comes, those worries will seem so insignificant now. Perspective is a lesson often learned in hindsight, accepted with age.

With each passing day on this journey I learn more about myself, and let the pieces go that aren't important. Worrying about the uncontrollable, getting upset over little ripples in every day life--these parts of me were ok to let go of on this journey, and in this life. The other parts, the important pieces like faith and morals and values, have been challenged and strengthened each day. I know what I stand for and what matters to me, and I'm learning to let go of the other stuff that is just getting in the way. It's like I'm getting to know myself in a way that I wasn't free to do before.

5/21/2013. - Day 56 - Every Mile a Memory, Every Song Another Scene, From Some Old Movie Goin' Back in Time - You and Me

5/21/2013. - Day 56 - Every Mile a Memory, Every Song Another Scene, From Some Old Movie Goin' Back in Time - You and Me

Tuesday started with more job hunting, thankfully minus the rain. I was able to enjoy the city a little more due to not having to dodge weather elements.

My Gram and me at the lift bridge in 2001, just two years earlier. 

I visited my grandmother at her long term care facility tonight and had supper with her. She was very much alert and oriented, despite having Alzheimer's and not being fully with us, mentally, at all times. I'm thankful for these visits where she knows who I am, remembers details of my life, and can converse normally with me. I know that with this disease that won't always be the case. It's sad to think about, but I'm glad I can be here and have this time with her.




We really do switch roles as we grow, as we find our own independence and explore our parents are aging and begin to depend on us more and more. I always try to remember that a long time ago at an age where I can't remember, my parents and my grandparents had a lot of patience with me and showed a lot of understanding. I feel it's so important to keep that in mind now that my Gram is going to need us to greet her with patience and show her a different sort of compassion as the disease progresses.

5/20/2013. - Day 55 - With a little bit of luck I can find me a girl with a truck (and maybe a ramp to unload my motorcycle?)

5/20/2013. - Day 55 - With a little bit of luck I can find me a girl with a truck (and maybe a ramp to unload my motorcycle?)

The bike came out of the pickup again today. I've been building on a relationship with the local Honda dealer for several years, and they graciously allow me to use their ramp when I'm in town to load and unload the bike. Grandpa is my co pilot today as he will take the Ford back to the house as I take the motorcycle. The general Ford jokes are made and then he finally settles into the driver's seat. It's raining but not too hard and I'm hoping the weather looks up.

I continue my career exploration this afternoon, getting a chance to wear some fun professional dresses, and then getting soaked in a downpour and continuing the day in jeans and boots. I'm rolling with it; rain happens. At least I didn't melt.

Lana is in the cities for a few days so Grandpa and I are fending for ourselves at home. In the mornings we discuss world issues, newspaper articles, and historical events. Earlier today the topic was peanut butter and I said something to the effect that I would eat it on almost anything. When I arrive home from my job search, I head to the cellar, where I live when I am at my grandparents' house, for a shower and some sweat pants.

When I emerge from the basement, I catch a faint scent of what seems to be peanut butter cookies. Instead of going into the kitchen, I head to the living room to see if there are any episodes of Grey's Anatomy on the DVR. Grandpa is in the kitchen doing something with pots and pans so I holler in and ask why it smells like peanut butter cookies. He enters the living room, which borders the kitchen and has a puzzled look on his face. He states that he does not smell any such thing, and maybe they have a peanut butter cookie air freshener he is unaware of. I wrinkle my forehead and insist that I smell them, and I'm pretty sure it's not an air freshener. He persists with doubt and accuses me of thinking their house smells of peanut butter cookies. Again, I swear I smell cookies, and it isn't the smell of their house. He disappears back into the kitchen and I drop it.

There is a wall separating the kitchen and living room with entrances on both ends of the wall. The wall anchors some cabinets and the stove and refrigerator on one side, and the TV console on the other. We used to run around through the rooms in circles when we were kids. Several minutes after our above conversation, Grandpa is banging pots and pans around again and I inquire as to what he is doing.  He mumbles something about arranging the cupboards or putting away dishes and since he lives in the kitchen 90% of the time I think nothing of it. Again I ask if he smells the very distinct scent of peanut butter cookies and he dismisses it. Now I think I am going crazy.

The LEGEND. 

An hour or so later, when I've finally had enough of the television, I declare that I am going to bed. Grandpa catches me before I disappear into the depths of the house and asks if I'll come into the kitchen to see if I still smell the peanut butter cookies. Now I'm terrified that I have left the peanut butter out or open and mice have infested the cupboards, or I have spilled something that has resulted in the smell perfuming the air and he is luring me into the kitchen to present me with my mistake. I reluctantly enter the kitchen -- and find an entire batch of peanut butter cookies, still warm, cooling on the counter.

If you don't know my Grandpa, you may not be able to understand this gesture, and if you do know him, you understand the magnitude of this act - seasoned lightly with his sarcasm, of course.

5/19/2013. - Day 54 - Sunday: I'm just blowin' smoke.

5/19/2013. - Day 54 - Sunday: I'm just blowin' smoke.

Sunday has come again and this time I'm going to The Vineyard in Duluth. Upon arriving, I'm excited to learn that the Blessing of the Bikes will be next week! This is an event in which riders from all over take their motorcycles to church. It's a really neat opportunity to bring groups of people together that might not normally congregate. When the Vineyard was a young church, I attended this event in the Lakeside location in 2008. It rained but it was still a well attended event. Combining chrome and Christ? Genius.

Later I meet up with Amy at the mall to do some shopping for necessities and of course some non essentials. I absolutely LOVED the dance performances last night and thanked again her for the invite. Amy has danced and taught dance for many years, and up until yesterday I had never been able to see her work. It was so moving to be there and I hope I can take in another event like that at some point.

Today is short on reportable news, which I'm coming to really like and appreciate; simplicity and nothing going on has been easy on my soul. Spending time in one of my favorite places, with two of my favorite people (Lana & Grandpa) doesn't hurt either.

5/18/2013. - Day 53 - I Hope You Dance

5/18/2013. - Day 53 - I Hope You Dance...



I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,

Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

I hope you dance....I hope you dance

Couch potato was our name and lounging was our game on Saturday at my grandparents' house. Contrary to what you might believe, retirement actually seems to get busier than regular life, because you suddenly can do whatever you want so you pack in all your favorite things to every single day...and you get exhausted. I happen to be fond of my grandparents' couch, like really fond, and I'm not ashamed that I sat/napped on it most of the day.

Later Saturday evening, I attended a dance performance at UMD. My good friend Amy has worked with a dance studio for years, and they were presenting all age groups in multiple performances that night. There were tiny little tumbling toddlers right up to high school ladies twirling around. It was spectacular. I rather enjoy the fine arts and since Amy helped with some of the younger girls' dance routines, it was extra cool to see her work
.

Caroline, myself, and Amy - a few of 2008's Finest.

At the conclusion of the dance recital, Amy and I met up with another of our former Northland Country Club co workers, Caroline. In 2008, I spent my entire summer soaking up the sun in Duluth working for "the Club" as a swimming instructor, lifeguard, and poolside server. I also specialized in eating candy, hot dogs, and slushes from the concession stand, and consuming large amounts of fries and grilled cheeses from the kitchen. It was heaven. Amy was the leader of our lifeguard gang, and Caroline also worked with us in the business of saving lives and helping kids put on arm floaties. Somehow it seems Old Chicago has slowly become my venue of choice in Canal Park, so we gather there and reminisce as well as catch up on the new and exciting aspects of our now "adult" lives. I can't believe I just said that. 

5/17/2013: - Day 52 - The Highway Signs Say We're Close, But I Don't Read Those Things Anymore: Pizza & Patience

5/17/2013: - Day 52 -

The Highway Signs Say We're Close, But I Don't Read Those Things Anymore: Pizza & Patience

Today I bid farewell to Lola, Tessie, & Tyler, and make my way to Duluth. Once again I spend way too much time giving in to my OCD and trying to organize things. In my efforts to pacify the Type A qualities that have been sticking out, and due to being nearly two months into my retirement, the names of the days have begun to slip my mind, as well as other semi important things that I had stored away in my previously organized and predictable life.

Today, as I begin my drive, reality comes crashing in. The bookmarks in my brain are now flipping open to the pages I've marked that warn "Never drive to Duluth from Minneapolis on a Friday afternoon, especially in the summer" in bold, highlighted, and underlined text.

Today is Friday, and I've waited until the afternoon to drive to Duluth. From Minneapolis. Oh the humanity.

So I sit in traffic for a drive that ends up taking five hours instead of two and a half. Since I'm retired and have nowhere to be it's not that big of deal, except I'm bad at patience. But I'm working on it. And look at this glorious opportunity God has given me to do just that.

As an added benefit, the main road I take to my grandparents' house is, of course, under construction. That's fine. Things like this are starting to be something I can now easily overlook; I'm learning that lots of things that previously seemed like a big deal are really not and aren't worth the high blood pressure.

My grandparents are amazing--they've stocked up on my essentials.

I arrive at my grandparents' house in Pike Lake just in time for pizza. When all else fails (or when we really don't feel like cooking) pizza delivery is a godsend. I always race to the door of course to see if the pizza man is good looking, something I for some reason picked up when I was living here in 2008. It's never paid off so I think in my retired state I'll probably save myself the added energy and just start to assume that the pizza delivery man is seldom worth voluntary exercise. He's a working man, and probably doesn't have time to pretty himself up before he starts running pizzas. I don't blame him. I shouldn't expect him to dress up just for me when I'm going to meet him in sweat pants and a shower I took two days ago.