Tuesday, April 4, 2017

Ed's Birthday Cruise

Our first stop was in Cedar City
to visit Shirley and her kids: Amy Jayne, Keenan and Nellie.
When we got there, 
Nellie was playing the piano while the residents ate their lunch.
Nice visit;
Nice way to start a trip.
Keenan has been reading Shirley's journal with her
to help her remember her past.
She says it's as hard to come back
as it was to leave.
As we left,
she wished Ed a Happy Birthday.
Solar panels across the desert in California.
Ed’s 44th Birthday!
He’s a year older than Daddy was when he died. Yeah.
Here at last. Ed didn’t know if he could wait but he did.
Hairy-scary 60 mile drive to ship terminal – took nearly two hours.
Parking lot was full.
(Last time we were here, we weren’t even this early
and we took the first parking space.
Brent and I ran all over the place waiting to check in.
This time, everyone is already checking in and we had to park on the 2nd tier.)
We weren’t supposed to check in until 2:30.
Nobody was supposed to check in before 1.
By 11 everyone was checking in.
Pretty streamlined but still it’s an ordeal.
Then after we finally got to our room,
I had to go all the way back to get DeRay’s cell phone from the car.
While I was gone, DeRay played Whirly Word.
Safety Drill. One of Ed’s favorite parts.
DeRay about passed out – 
standing out in the sun while they counted everyone before the life vest demonstrations. 


Note the bridge to the tent and the parking garage on the left.


Queen Mary in background.
Long Beach


Ed & I watched cast off – late.
Watched out our window – fog.
Not to worry, our captain is capable. Ed has complete trust.

 HAPPY BIRTHDAY ED! He says he hasn’t had a good day.
They brought him a piece of cake for his birthday.
"Please don't sing!"
There were quite a few birthdays and each time they sang,
he put his hands over his ears and grimaced. 
People, people everywhere.
Are we as weird as all these people?
Yes. Big groups; little groups; families; multi-families.
Crowds in all the serenity hut pods, lounge chairs, hammocks; crowds everywhere.
A day at sea.
Thomas Wolfe says you can’t go home again – 
We have decided you can’t go on a cruise again.
Ghosts from cruises past haunt us.
Where are the educational lectures?
The movies? The Book Clubs? Tai Chi on the top deck?
Crafts? Sushi?
Tours of the bridge;
Tea with the Captain.
Gigantic fresh flower bouquets?
Chocolate on the pillows each night?
Observation deck? Crow's Nest?
The photography and computer classes? Digital workshops?
The Adagios Quartets? The music? The information?
We used to talk to the help,
find out about their homelands and their families,
their troubles, and joke with them.
Where’s the excitement; the exceptional food?
There used to be ginger and treats after dinner.
Dinner was at least four courses:
1) Starter; 2) Appetizer; 3) Main course; 4) Dessert. Coffee or tea.
So many classes, lectures, history, arts and crafts, demonstrations.
You couldn’t make it to all you wanted to.
Ed liked cruises because he “learned so much.”
We saw a couple of comedians but they catered to the children.
One was so doused he started repeating himself so he quit.
Why aren’t I doing two miles around the deck?
3½ times around = 1 mile.
Don’t feel like it.
Serenity Deck for adults only.
The schools are out in Arizona this week. There are 2500 people – 
I’m sure 2,499 of them are children. 
Cabo San Lucas
Sunrise 6:31 AM; Sunset 6:30 PM
I took a tender into town.
Saw a dolphin and pelican.
Walked around – bought nothing even from our favorite store – 
had a drink of cold water I carried and came on back.
I wish Ed would go in with me.
He’d enjoy the ride.
The tenders are operated by Cabo
and are not the life boats from the ship so they are open air.
It’s a lovely ride in.
This is when I miss Amy and Brent – my beachcomber companions.




The Carnival Miracle from the Cabo Tender


“I don’t want it to end,”
Ed said when we lamented it was only the second day.
DeRay and Ed were having this little exchange over “We just ate.”
DeRay is looking at the #8 Tender
 so he implies when Ed said we just “ate” he meant “Nbr 8 tender.”
“Not e-i-g-h-t,” Ed explains, “I mean a-t-e.” 


Ed & I did the weight room for ½ hour as usual.
10 min bike 10 min elliptical 10 min treadmill.
Then we walked out on 10 deck to cool off.







DeRay is hooked on Whirly Word. I thought I brought the iPad for me.
He played until 2:30 AM one night - 'er morning.
The beds were actually very good.
There was just enough motion of the ship
that in my sleep each night it felt like the cats
were jumping up on our bed,
making us feel at home.
Three weeks later,
DeRay still feels the motion of the ship in his sleep.
Deck 11
Amy and I went down the slide
when she went to Acapulco on Carnival with us.


Washing the ship.


Puerto Vallarta.
Sunrise 6:09 AM; Sunset 6:11 PM  
The first time DeRay and Eddy have been off the ship
since we embarked on Saturday.
I found the beach Brent found when we were here about eight years ago.
He had the taxi driver drop him off in town
where he explored all afternoon
then walked the three miles back to the ship along the beach.
We had been there several times and never even knew it was there.
You just walk through the shops to the back
and there is a beautiful pristine beach.
This time it was all fenced off and I feared they had blocked the access.
IMPORTANT:
Safety first! The U.S. Embassy in Mexico has issued
safety advisories due to increased crime in the area of Puerto Vallarta.
Visitors are advised to exercise caution, particularly at night and in the early morning.
We encourage you to remain in the main tourist areas
or consider participating in an organized tour,
avoid carrying large amounts of cash or jewelry
and generally be aware of your surrounding.

I just walked across the street in front of the shops,
down a shaded sidewalk.
The steps had a rope railing so it was much more accessible than before.
There were enough people there that I felt safe.
I actually went twice since we were in Puerto Vallarta from 9 AM to 9 PM. 












We bought a poncho for Karlton for his birthday.
"How much?" "$40."
"$40???? My grandson isn't worth $40!"
They don't plan on you paying what they ask.
They just throw out a wild number.
Then DeRay had to have one because he is always freezing.
 “How much for the fat guy out there?”
"$20."
Go figure.
He wanted to put a poncho on Eddy for the picture.
He also wanted to give Eddy a little gift.
(And Trump wants to build a wall to keep
the likes of him out?
Can you imagine Trump,
out of the goodness of his heart,
giving Eddy an little piece of folk art?)
He chose a porcupine;
I chose a donkey because it seemed more Mexican.

Maybe they have porcupines in Mexico
but I've never seen one.
Of course, I've never seen a donkey either.
I have a vivid image on an older woman
dressed all in white standing up in a little cart
pulled by a donkey in Cairo at 1 AM
as our bus drove us from the airport
to our hotel by the pyramids.
They were clipping along
and her long hair was flying in the breeze. 
***
December 2010
In Puerto Vallarta,14-year-old Jonathan 
honed his bargaining skills.
At the top of a plaza overlooking the ocean and harbor
Jonathan shows us a glass turtle he bought for $20.
“Too much.”
“He wanted $30.”
“Don’t pay over $3.”
We took it back and got Jonathan’s money back;
He bought gifts for himself, his sisters, and mom
with the $20 he saved and in Cabo
he bought a glass turtle for $3.  No bargaining.

He has operated two side-by-side shops for 25 years here.
We've probably talked to him before.
(I wanted a picture of his pony tail.)


This picture is for Carol and Verla.
The Norweigian Jewel docked in the same bay.
One of the bottom windows is ours. All ours.
We've rarely had a window.
When Amy went with us,
we had a balcony - free upgrade.
She slept on the balcony every night
and then was upset when the whistle woke
her up as we left a port.


A Mexican dog guarding.
The Xoloitzxuintli is considered a natural treasure in Mexico
and is a traditional favorite in the World's Ugliest Dog Contest.


  Touching the Mighty Pacific Ocean.








Carnival Miracle
Like Amy, I like gnarly trees.
Ed and I went to Deck 10 to watch the sunset and say good bye to Puerto Vallarta.


Always makes us feel at home.








Next to our table was a fellow eating alone,
obviously listening to our conversation.
We were talking about burial plots and cremation
and all sorts of appetizing subjects.
“I want to be cremated,” DeRay says,
"with my ashes in a pinebox.
I only want one pall bearer
and I want them to be buried with me."
The guy at the next table interrupts solemnly:
“I wouldn’t be your pall bearer.”
We hardly had laughed the whole trip, even at the comedians,
but we laughed so heartily and long at that.
DeRay ran into him in the restroom;
he confirmed that he still didn’t want to be a pall bearer,
then as he passed our table at breakfast
he wondered if we still needed a pall bearer.
We meant to get his phone number but we never saw him again.

Eddy was on one today.
He rarely talks but he kept up a constant chatter this morning.
“I’m winning, Mr. Ruin Everything.” (getting ready to shower).
“We haven’t got all day.”
“Wouldn’t want to put you out.”
I said something about the long line for breakfast.
“We don’t need two complainers. We’ve already got one.”
“I hope you’re not goofing off.”
“21.0 knots – my favorite speed.”
“Puerto Vallarta, my favorite port!”
“You’re not a kid anymore.” (When DeRay was watching cartoons.)
“You should enjoy every minute we’re here.”
“He who cares least wins.”
“Somebody sure grunts – grunt – grunt – grunt- grunt. That’s what you’re good at.” “Somebody’s got knobby knees.”
“Well, somebody’s got to feed the fish.”
“I can’t believe we’re on my favorite ocean.”
“I sure love this current that we’re going against.
You can see these currents because they are always moving.”
DeRay said something about currents you eat,
“No. No. I’m talking about ocean currents.”
“Where’s the sun, that we’re orbiting?”
I said something about Dad crushing me.
“That’s what husbands do,” he affirmed.
DeRay’s shoes squeak when he walks.
“I can’t believe we’re living with a mouse.”
“I love ‘sea day’.”
“Is that A-B-C?”
“S-e-a,” he clarifies.
“We’re going to Long Beach, our final destination.” 
“I love formal night. I’ll take it over packing any day.”
“You know why I like formal night? Because it’s so formal-ie.”




“Thank you for bringing me. The comedian told us to thank our parents.”






This was Sammy's first week back on the ship
after being home for three months.
He's putting two sons through college.
Been here for 17 years.
He doesn't go home - India - again
for 8 months.
I though, "You know, that's not so different
than my dad out with the sheep for
days, weeks or months
leaving Mama home alone with the kids."


Eddy loves the debarkation assembly.
Meeting the Captain.
Carnival is a ship for children?
Nude statues and pictures everywhere.
Of course, for the Panama Canal Cruise
we had live models.
No need for statues or pictures.










Glass elevator from deck 1 to 10.




  
Out of the room by 8:30,
exactly when we had to be out of the room.
We walked ¾ the length of the ship and took the elevator to Deck 3,
even though they had only called Decks 6 and 7 (we were Deck 1).
We didn’t go to the back of the line;
we joined in and walked steadily and slowly for a little over an hour.
We walked back down to the center of the ship; out,
and back towards the front to walk the bridge,
probably the length of a football field,
to the tent for customs.
It was 9 AM when Ed and I walked off the ship.
We did get a break in customs.
Instead of making us walk through the back and forth lines,
she sent us directly across to the front of the line to the customs officials.
Then we went down and walked across the big tent
where most everyone had their luggage
but we were pulling ours.
Then we walked across the pavilion to cross the street
to catch the elevator to walk to our car.
By the time I got everything situated,
DeRay got off the elevator
and I only pulled his luggage to the car.
It may have been a 2 mile walk from our room to the car.
It sure felt like it.
It was way too much for DeRay.
It took Ed and me from 8:30 and 9:35.
Looking towards Long Beach from the bridge.

This is out 11th cruise.
Did it take us that long to discover the purpose of cruises?
It’s not to gain knowledge or even experience;
it’s not to meet new people and make new friends;
it’s not to bond with those you already know;
it’s not to be entertained;
it’s not to see new places, study new cultures;
it’s not to exercise, play games, visit, swim, hot tub;
watch the sunsets, currents, dolphins or whales.
Or even to have chocolates on your pillow each night.
The purpose of a cruise,
when you sum it all up,
is to slow us down; help us be still; let go;
calm down with no responsibilities;
to restore, reset, rebirth.
To feel the warmth of the sun on sandy beaches.
So that we are ready to assume the routine responsibilities
of cooking and cleaning that are the true sources
of happiness and contentment.

Friday, March 31, 2017

Not at all what we had in mind. . .

Friday, March 31 – I woke up this morning just a little after 9, after going to bed at 11:30, thinking, “I’m better.” And it’s about time. Nearly two weeks.
Ed, who hadn’t been downstairs once yesterday, was ready for breakfast. He started throwing up two days ago and hasn’t been able to keep a thing down. Finally last night he kept a little pedeolite down and had a good night’s rest. Basically, he slept all day yesterday, which is good but worrisome.
So we had breakfast, a poached egg and juice. Ed watched something on TV with his dad and I did a Jacuzzi. It totally wore me out. I took a nap before lunch. I guess it will take awhile. I’m still coughing, but not as much. It’s my first day without Depends and how liberating.
We got home from the cruise feeling fine but later that same Sunday, it hit. I told Emily it was when she called to tell us that her mother had died last night. I loved her mother. She was my friend and mentor. I can’t imagine church or DUP without her.
I’ve more or less been in a fog the 13 days since. I went to the doctor on Monday, hoping to be better to do my presentation for Fine Arts Club that I had been working on off and on for six months. By Tuesday, I couldn’t raise my head off the pillow nor could I talk. I didn’t have pneumonia or the flu. Just bronchitis but I didn’t get better. My cough got worse.
By Wednesday, I thought I might be allergic to the $42 (our co-pay) antibiotics the doctor prescribed. DeRay got Dr. Beus to prescribe the same kind he and Ed were taking. I would sit up most of the night because when I lie down I cough.
Emily sent food over from the funeral; Elizabeth brought chicken soup with homemade German pasta called spaetzle, rolls, and tarts. Amy made her delicious Vietnamese Chicken Pho a couple of times. When Verla came down for her birthday, gratefully she brought two kinds of soup so we survived somehow. Brooke and Elizabeth also brought enchiladas and tarts another day.  I made rice pudding one of the early days and cooked a fish dinner and then I was through. I vacuumed once and mopped the floor twice. After the washing machine came on Friday – oh, yes, the washer was broken when we got home, so by the time we got a washing machine, we had over two weeks worth of dirty clothes, plus all the icky bedding - I washed twice. We barely kept our heads above water. I don't know how DeRay bought a washing machine.
I wrote an email to Brent and Brooke and told them their dad was dying. “Why’d you do that?” “Because that’s what you told me when you came home from the doctor.” His lungs were filling with fluid, his oxygen was low, terrible sores on his shin and now bronchitis. Brent was good to call and Brooke and Elizabeth were angels of mercy.
We felt very lucky to get off the cruise ship and drive all the way home before we got sick. How awful it would have been otherwise. And the basement wasn’t flooded. With the rain this week, it’s seeping into the basement so Amy keeps a watchful eye.
I went with Verla to the Garden Restaurant to celebrate her 71st birthday, also with Carol and Verda, but I was in a daze, determined not to ruin her birthday but I probably did. DeRay and Eddy picked me up at Carol's where Melissa got up from her migraine-sick bed to keep me company. Carol and Verla went to the play at PMT, then the next morning they went on down to Cedar City to spent some time with Shirley to celebrate her 88th birthday.
The hour I spent sitting in the sun on the deck on Wednesday was my best hour. That and the medications and teas Amy showered on me. Turmeric, cinnamon stick, whole cloves, nutmeg, fresh ginger, black pepper steeped for 20 minutes, served with coconut milk and honey was my favorite. “How come Amy is so good to you?” Ed asks. I’ll tell you, it was much appreciated. “Mothers don’t ask sons how they are feeling,” Ed tells me when I ask how he is. I didn’t know that DeRay had awful sores on his legs before we left for the cruise. His whole shin is oozing gaping red sores. Dr. Bues checked them again when we got home and he thought they were healing. When I saw them, I didn’t agree. We put salve and gauze on them. We haven’t looked but he says they are still painful.
So we were planning three cremations since we don’t have burial plots. Actually, I told DeRay, I could be cremated but I couldn’t do that to Eddy. I don’t think Eddy had the flu. He doesn’t blow his nose and he doesn’t spit up phlegm like most of us and I think when his system gets saturated, he throws up until it is cleansed.
I wonder when we will ever feel like exercise again. I’ve never gone this long without doing stretches, let alone swimming and machines at the gym, and riding our beloved trikes. I can’t fathom doing any of them ever again.  My ribs hurt with every cough. They are sore to touch. It’s been a surreal experience. To emerge from the fog. I think about what Shirley said when we stopped by to see her on our way to the cruise ship. “It’s as hard to come back as it was to go,” she laments. For her, it was more than two weeks, it’s closer to two years.


Monday, March 6, 2017

The Dog

One Sunday, I walked home from church
with our neighbor.
He was rushing home between meetings
to take care of a new puppy.
(I was home for good.)
He said he hoped the new puppy would
teach his kids responsibility,
as well as love.
At first, I would see all four kids
gleefully walking the puppy each morning;
laughing and skipping,
walking, skate boarding and biking.
Eventually, I noticed Nate
was walking the dog with three children trailing along.
Then Nate and two children.
Then father and the youngest son
walking the dog.
Now as stand in front of my window doing tree pose,
 I see only Nate faithfully walking the dog
each and every morning.