I spent last week in California, visiting my BFF Barbara. Her husband had suffered a massive stroke in September so it was quite the different visit; he has been home from the hospital/acute rehab for a couple of months now but life has changed drastically for all while they negotiate Dave's recovery. He's made a lot of improvements but is still dealing with right-side paralysis and as a result, he's in a wheelchair most of the time. Physical and occupational therapy have helped with getting his movement to return, but it's a slow process. Still, it's progress, and that's a very good thing.
He's having to relearn how to speak; he understands what we are saying for the most part although I sometimes wondered if my usual Shelley-chatter, switching subjects randomly and talking quickly, might have been a little overwhelming for him - but then he'd laugh at the appropriate places, so I don't know. I'm definitely more sensitive/empathetic to being overwhelmed after having my recent seizure and concussion, so the last thing I wanted to do was make it harder for him. On previous visits we'd have morning chats across the kitchen counter while he made me cup after cup of espresso, and I missed that connection, but we managed to connect over See's Candies after dinner...hey, brain-injured people need chocolate to heal. Still, I miss - as does everyone in his life - the old Dave, and I look forward to seeing him get better and better.
In my last post I mentioned wanting to burn the memory of 2019 to the ground, and we did just that. On New Year's Eve Barbara and I went for a 2 mile walk along the seawall. It was a beautiful day, you could smell the ocean, and as she said, it was our version of doing a sage smudge ceremony.
Dang Santa Cruz, you were GORGEOUS on the last day of 2019!
We had a lovely spread of hors d'oeuvres along with some sparkling water with fancy ice cubes, followed by some amazing homemade French dip sandwiches.
Then Barbara brought out some cedar shingles and markers, where she and I went to town writing our grievances on the shingles. Dave participated as well, writing the year and one very poignant word on his. Tears ensued. What a shitty, shitty year.
Afterward, with the help of some lighter fluid, we burned the shingles and that motherfucker of a year to the ground...er, the bottom of the little Weber grill. Any case, we reduced those shingles to ash, and it felt really good.
The next day we welcomed the new year with a drive to Monterey, where we did a little shopping and had a late lunch. Drove home along the coast, and even though it was cold, dark, and getting late, Barbara and I went for a walk in her neighborhood - if you close out the year with a walk, you need to open the new year with one, right? We walked up a hill that was so steep I had to take several breaks along the way. I would say I'm out of shape - and I am, don't get me wrong - but holy hell, that hill was a BEAST. After walking on some (thankfully) flat streets, we descended a different but equally steep hill:
Heck of a view - and yes, that's the Pacific ocean out there.
To walk down this we literally had to lean backwards like the old Keep on Trucking cartoon dude, I kid you not:
Imagine this was us, except our shoes were smaller, LOL.
I have two pictures to represent the end of 2019 and the beginning of 2020, and somehow it feels appropriate that they are both slightly fuzzy. My goal for the next set of 2020/2021 pictures is for both of them to be clearer, like our lives will be:
Fuck off and goodbye, 2019.
Welcoming 2020 with the Shaka sign - hang loose, take it easy, things are great. We were channeling the good vibes.
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