travels

In February of 2008, after dealing with the heartache of divorce and living alone again, I traveled to California for a week. Before I went out there, I kept telling myself and anyone who would still still long enough that I was going to reassure my family of friends out there that I was doing okay, that my emotional roller coaster ride was, at last, done. They had helped me hold tightly to my vestiges of sanity when it was after 1am here and all others I knew had been in bed at least a couple of hours. Sue and Paul had thrown out their lifelines to me, making sure I knew I was wanted, I was needed, I was loved. Now, I wanted to show them how much I appreciated having them in my life, that their hours on the phone with me had been a great success, because just look at how well-adjusted and sane I am now! That's what I said, or words to that effect. And I meant it, too.
So, off I flew. I spent Saturday through Tuesday in San Diego with my "little sister" Sue and her family, which includes three loving children she and Cyndi had adopted. It was my first time meeting the children, then 6, 5, and 3, and IT WAS GREAT! I reveled in the constant touch and interaction that little ones are so adept at providing. Every morning, I woke to one or more children trying to get in bed and snuggle with me. Every day I played games and had children climbing all over me, trying to sit behind me on the couch, playing around my feet. And the two dogs? Oh, they loved me! So much attention I got, so much tactile contact! On the Sunday, I got to be part of the oldest girl's belated birthday party, done with a medieval theme and attended by Dorothy, the Tin Man, the Scarecrow, the Cowardly Lion, princesses, knights, the Good Fairy, and Cinderella. Wow! I even had a purple and green sea turtle painted on my face! The next day, Cyndi took me to some of my old stomping grounds by the naval base and out to the children's school to meet some of their teachers. On Tuesday, I got to spend some time one-on-one with Sue, talking and laughing like we did in college, having a drink or two along the way. Overall, not a fancy time, but a good time, a time of sharing each others' lives up close.
I got so very, very spoiled, but I didn't realize just how much until later. Sure, I did cry a little when I left them on the Wednesday to fly up to San Francisco. But I made sure they didn't see the tears because the two children who had come along didn't want me to go, either and I didn't want them to cry. But I had friends in El Cerrito waiting for me, my best friend Paul and his wife, and I was just as eager to see them. I had not yet even met Cathy!
They met me at the airport with open arms and loving hearts and took me immediately to one of their favorite sushi houses. The rest of my stay with them was spent constantly in their company, starting every day with Paul at one of his two favorite coffee houses. We spent the days going to standard tourist spots and doing standard tourist things (dining at Fisherman's Wharf and gawking at the seals, walking halfway and back on the Golden Gate Bridge) but also traveling on paths less known (going to the Awards banquet for the Search And Rescue group Paul is in, picnicking at almost 4000 feet on Mount Diablo, watching the sunset on Ocean Beach). Fabulous! Sharing the places and foods they loved with me, sharing hugs and laughter and happy times with me. Oh, so very spoiled I became.
After watching the sunset over Ocean Beach (shown on my blog, but with a fogbow), we had Thai food and they dropped me off at the airport. So far, so good. I do well at entertaining myself at airports, mostly walking up and down, looking at everything. The next morning, I was greeted back in Savannah by John & Deatre and had breakfast with them and the kids. Nice welcome to my regular life! Ah! Then, that afternoon, I joined my teammates at the bowling alley and regaled them with tales of Cali and felt great!
And then I went home. To my empty house with the suitcase waiting to be unpacked. No one there to greet me, to give me hugs, to provide contact. No one to touch, no one to touch me. And... I... lost... my... mind. I cried like I had no reason to live. I had to re-learn how to be alone again. It took a couple of weeks for me to get to the point of not crying myself to sleep.
Two weeks ago, I traveled again for almost a week in Cali, this time all in San Diego. Sue met me at the airport and we went to the children's school to get my nephew from his summer camp. I shared his room while I stayed, awaking each morning to children around me. I marched with Sue's family (and the children's school) in the San Diego Pride Parade, whooping and hollering with gusto! We went to Sea World and watched the great Shamu and two of his buddies dance in the water, followed by fireworks dancing in the night sky above the immense pool. Cyndi drove me and the kids to Anaheim for California Adventures and I got to ride and ride and ride with the children! Monsters, Inc, Soaring Over California, the Muppet show - great fun! The next day, we all went to Disneyland, a novel experience for me. I had gone to Disneyworld last year (for the first time since I was 18) and we grown-ups found it quite interesting comparing the two parks. We also had a blast each having a young one to share the rides with! I went on Dumbo and Space Mountain with Dylan (now 7), Cartopia and Buzz Lightyear with Cooper (he's 6), and the Matterhorn with Riley (4 in June). What a fabulous time!
And this time, I did not fall apart when I got home. Nope, didn't happen. My singing bird saw to that, though he had not orchestrated the events. No, the cosmos and my angels had intervened on my behalf to make sure my sanity was not mangled after my trip. How so? Airtran, my preferred mode of transport to the other coast, no longer flies from Savannah... but it does travel from Charleston, home of my singing bird. So, this time, I began my Cali trip from his arms in Charleston, on an absurdly early Friday, and ended very late on a Thursday evening, again in his arms in Charleston. My singing bird sent me away with love and welcomed me back with more of the same. I stayed with him until Sunday, when I finally returned to Savannah, just as I have on previous trips to see him. I had touch, that magical sense, my drug of choice, before, during, and after my travels this time. And that has made all the difference.