This year marked our 82nd continuous Strange Family Reunion and the first time we were back in person after three years of virtually meeting during the pandemic. We essentially had two themes for this family reunion: “Back Down Memory Lane” and “Celebrating Our Second Generation Legacies.” What we meant by “second generation” was second freeborn generation as in their parents were not born into slavery and neither were they.
Strange Family Shelter
Historically, our family reunion was held at my maternal grandparents’ home. Then under trees in the combined backyards of several extended family members near my grandparents’ home. Finally, many relatives built a permanent shelter on family land.
Before You Eat…
Our IRL reunions run Friday through Sunday. During the pandemic, we all became more tech savvy. To plan for this year’s event, we held near weekly Zoom meetings to discuss programing for the entire weekend, along with divvying up roles. I suggested that some family could be “voluntold” the day of the event to lend a helping hand.
Fish fry & Grill
Every day unfolded like a well rehearsed play with few hiccups. Friday kicked off with our usual fish fry. Over the years, the menu has expanded to include vegan options with this year’s introduction of fried corn, which was so popular that they ran out. There was also a modest vegan buffet.
Frying Corn
I filled my plate with fish and sides. I didn’t bother with any of the grilled offerings, which included Mom’s favorite: hot dogs.
Grilling
For the first time ever, we had a kitchen manager who’d set three different menus and she had dedicated kitchen volunteers for all three days. Everything was very well organized and delicious. Next year, we’re planning to have even more kitchen staff on Saturday since that’s our main programing day. I suggested contracting a clean up crew for the end of each day.
Friday Kitchen Staff
We honored 12 of our elders and sat them at a head table on Saturday. Instead of having to wait in line or even going first in line, the honorees simply circled items on a printed menu of their selections and a food runner brought them their plate. That was one of many of the big hits during the reunion.
Food Line
We also honored them on Saturday by having those who were able to walk down the red carpet, pose for pictures before being seated at the head table. My contributions to the program were to show a presentation that I created, which gave a brief biography for each honoree, followed by reading an “Oscar” blurb before the honoree or their representative accepted a gift bag.
Elders Eat First
All throughout the three-day reunion, I walked around taking video clips. I’d changed the settings on my cameraphone to 4K. I’d researched and discovered that my antiquated iPhone 8 had the capability to capture film quality footage. For this event, I tested it out.
Red Carpet Pose
Although I had other means of capturing the event, I enjoyed practicing with my camera like a filmmaker, especially on Sunday when we had church service at the shelter prior to our final day of breaking bread together.
Sunday Kitchen Staff
One of my relatives, sang two gospel songs. I used both of them as the soundtrack to the nearly 6-minute video summary of our reunion. I knew before the event began that I didn’t want to narrate the video as I’d done the “Celebrating Our Second Generation Legacies” presentation. Nor was I going to use the the audio associated with the clips because they would have far too much noise. Those two gospel songs were the perfect solution.
Additionally, those clips were much longer than necessary–over 35 minutes altogether. Some schools of thought state that it’s better to have more than what’s needed for editing purposes. With practice, I can be more selective and time conscious when taking B-roll shots. Nonetheless, I trimmed the fat and shared the video with the rest of the family as one of several documentations of our reunion.
At some point in my pole fitness journey, I want to invert, which makes the difference between my current level and advancing to the next one, level 4. It’s a pretty daunting task to invert while on the pole. The fight against gravity is pretty gnarly when hanging on right-side up. What I’ve learned in the few months since I’ve been taking classes is that whatever skill I want to accomplish on the pole, should be practiced while off the pole.
Yoga Inversion Stand
Enter my new favorite exercise toy: a yoga inversion stand. When not in use, the stand serves as a foot rest in front of the only seat in the den that does not incline with a built-in foot rest.
Ready for Action!
Every morning, I remove the cushion, put my head through and pike up to vertical 10 times. The first time I used the stand, the experience amazed me. I easily inverted since the stand supported the brunt of my weight with the use of my shoulders.
Allegedly, five minutes of inverting is the equivalent of two hours of sleep. Thanks to my sinuses being stuffy in the mornings, I’ve yet to test out that theory. Thankfully, the sinus pressure lessens when I’m in pike position.
Another benefit I read about was that it would slim my waist. I scoffed at that one. Pretty much any weight loss would do that, so I didn’t dwell on that too much.
The underside of the cushion depicts several pictures of suggested exercises. I made up one of my own, which I refer to as “around the world.” While gripping the bars, I walk around the stand to complete a circle. At one point during the circuit, I must flip over into a back bend, then flip back over to return to the starting point. Of course, I circle in the opposite direction.
As ungracefully as I complete my around the worlds, my back only knows that it feels more sensational than it did prior to the exercise. That dynamic exercise is perhaps the best morning stretch I’ve ever done. No matter how late I wake up, I do that stretch. It doesn’t take but a minute to go in both directions. The reward far outweighs the time investment.
I’ll have to do other exercises for a more intensive core workout needed for pole inversion, but I’m definitely sticking to those around the worlds. So far, I only do one rotation in each direction, but I want to increase that once I get better at it. And improve my technique.
On days like these, the most authentic restaurants don’t care about cultural appropriation. Not that I attempted to dress or act like anything else that who I was: a hungry person who also drinks.
My Mango Margarita
We stood outside with the rest of the customers who waited for tables. The restaurant had placed all of us on a digital wait list that allowed everyone to monitor their place in line and lapsed waiting time. Not only was it entertaining to watch us move up the list, but the app eliminated the need to wait in an actual line.
My Sister’s Mango-Dragonfruit Margarita
Instead, we all clustered outside on the sidewalk, which ran the length of the shopping center. As engaged as I was reading on my phone, monitoring the digital queue, talking with my sister and low-key people watching, I’ll confess that I was hyper-vigilant for anyone ready to blow people away for whatever hate-filled reason.
The Shots Dude
Another day in the mass shooting epidemic in the US. I can’t stop living because of possible threats, but when guns are far more protected than people, I cannot help but develop some paranoia, especially when I’m in a huge crowd of people of color.
A Shy Guy?
Happy to announce that the only thing that was killed were the libations. Note to self: I can no longer drink a tall margarita!
Of Course Not!
I saved the shot for the next day. No need to waste good alcohol on pushing me further into inebriation. I appreciated the shot more by waiting the next day. That’s the middle age logic coming through.
Dessert
As a matter of fact, since I believe in leftovers, I enjoyed the other half of my Mexican dinner prior to attending “Jelly’s Last Jam,” which was the start of another culturally-filled evening.
Holiday Yard Display
The cost of all three of our tickets would have been the cost of one ticket back in Austin. There’s no culture jumping out at you here in Fayetteville, but once the surface is scratched, it’s a less expensive endeavor. That savings will come in handy for funding my own projects.
I distinctly remember around this time last year, Congress made a lot of noise about ending Daylight Savings. They cited many reasons why it was no longer needed and even dangerous to continue the tradition of “springing forward” an hour, which robs us of an hour of sleep.
Not to mention those of us who watched the Oscars, which miraculously ended before midnight. I actually went to bed at the “normal” time even though my body still registered it as an hour earlier. Not sure how long it’ll take my circadian rhythms to catch up with the time adjustment this time around. What I should have done was take something to help me fall asleep prior to going to bed, but I took a sleep supplement a few hours after the fact.
On Monday, I posted a picture of an Oscar award and Oscar the Grouch, asking my coworkers which Oscar they felt like. At least I made them laugh. Not being a coffee drinker myself, I wondered how many pounded more coffee than usual.
Right on cue, all the articles and interviews about the benefits of sleep entered the news cycle. As if the only thing robbing most Americans of quality-of-life-enhancing rest is setting the clock forward an hour once a year. What about American grind culture?
One theory states that our government wants to keep the majority of us grinding away at the edge of poverty. If the majority of us are more focused on survival strategies, then we don’t have the luxury of time and rest to contemplate or even act upon things to protest and demand better.
As a result, once again, only the rich can afford to rest and lobby for the change that they want to see. The glaring problem with that is that whatever changes the rich want to see, by design, doesn’t work for the majority of us. As a matter of fact, those changes only work to maintain the status quo.
When something is nearly impossible to accomplish, Dad says that the situation takes an act of Congress. This is something that Congress will NEVER act upon. Hell, they can’t even do away with Daylight Savings. Might as well just enjoy the sunshine.
When one of my cousins invited us to an event as part of a monthlong black history celebration, several of us had different ideas about what it would be: a potluck, a dance, a play, or some other presentation. I knew for sure that it was a potluck because, once again, Mom had been requested to make potato salad.
Parents Ready to Party
My sister, brother-in-law and I arrived earlier than my parents and a cousin who also attended. We sat at one table and my parents at another. Although the event was a potluck of sorts, I was so happy that we’d eaten Japanese food prior to attending the event. My sister and her husband are pescatarians, so it was especially important to them that they had an actual meal.
Before Mom Makes the Rounds
The only “program” during the event was the lineup of black music the DJ played all evening long. The Motown hits kept coming, along with other genres of black music. Of course the DJ called for a Soul Train line, line dances, slow dances and we freestyled.
Mom Sandwich
We never managed to get Mom and Dad to dance together. Mom’s number one mission was talking. Dad’s never been as much of a talker, compared to Mom, but he’s hardly ever met food that he didn’t want a “taste” of. No matter how soon we had just eaten.
Our Host Joins Us
I barely tore Mom away from socializing to get her to dance the Wobble. I generally can’t stand line dances, but to entice Mom to join us on the dance floor, I made the necessary sacrifice.
Dancing Queens
Yet, for Dad, my sister requested a slow song. Much slower than the music which the DJ had been playing. When the DJ announced a Father-Daughter song, I had been content videotaping the whole thing, but one of my cousins took my camera, and insisted I join my father and sister dancing.
Dapper Dad
At the end of the evening, which was around 8 PM since the party was held in the recreation room of a retirement community, Dad just naturally struck a pose while waiting for the car to be driven around. A GQ model couldn’t have done it better.
I’m always apprehensive to attend a surprise birthday party for an older person. I remember that scene in the movie, “Get Shorty,” where the surprised birthday person has a heart attack. I’d hate to be associated with such an unfortunate event, but my extended family has been smart. We lie to the unsuspecting birthday person about where they’re going. When they walk into the room, we don’t shout or spring out at them. Instead, they notice that they know everyone and see how the room is decorated.
My Beautiful Outspoken Aunt in Her 20s
My aunt, typical of her generation, was part of the network of women who knew things because she kept up with extended family. I like to think of them as the internet prior to the actual internet. So, the fact that her family, church family and friends were able to keep this from her for months was noteworthy.
Surprised by Her Children
They lured her in by telling her that one of her sons, known for having art shows, was displaying his work at their church. Now, as much as I know of my cousin’s paintings, I’ve never seen anything that one would readily associate with a “Christian” theme, but all artists can branch out.
Surrounded by Her Children
Fourteen years ago, we had a similarly arranged 70th birthday party for Dad. The lure that time was that the local rec center was having a fish fry, so our next door neighbor easily talked Dad into going to get a plate. Upon entering the room, he noticed that he knew everyone. The difference between then and now, Dad could be easily unaware of things because Mom was the social planner.
Dad Joining His Sister with Mom
This go around, Dad returned the favor, surprising one of his younger sisters.
Birthday Embrace
Both Dad and his sister joined the military. The military took them wherever their skills needed to be in service to our country’s objectives at the time. Even so, Dad’s side of the family wasn’t exactly “close,” as compared to Mom’s. Yet, looking back, I attribute that more to being in survival mode.
Wisdom Table
Over the years, Dad’s side of the family grew closer. Part of this phenomenon was due to being more sentimental with age, but also, the elders in the family have reaped the benefits of serving and retiring from the military. Unplugging from the daily grind has a mellowing effect.
Speechmaking
My aunt had the honor of addressing us prior to dinner. She marveled at how her family managed to sneak this event past her.
A Third Cousin & Me
In addition to celebrating my aunt’s birthday, we had an impromptu family reunion. This had been long overdue since before the pandemic.
Sister, Cousins & Me
Working for myself for years gave me the schedule flexibility, but never the steady income of an employee. I went from having the time, but not the money. Then after the pandemic, I had neither the money nor the time.
The Schedule & Menu
As dinner wound down, we all got the greenlight to share 2-minute memories about my aunt. Three themes emerged during our comments: how mean/strict/brutally honest she is, how each of us were her “favorite,” and no one honored the 2-minute time limit. So, as her favorite niece, I shared how I always thought she was mean, but when I became an adult, I understood her angst. I told everyone that I couldn’t repeat a word that I’d overheard my aunt saying, but I understood what she meant.
Some Other Nieces
Of course, another niece told everyone that SHE was the favorite niece since she got to practice driving Auntie’s car to get her driver’s license.
Sister, 1st Cousins & Me
There never seems to be enough time to catch up with everyone. Now that I’ve moved back to the East Coast, I should be able to visit this side of the family more often.
Artistic First Cousin & Me
Fortunately, I got to catch up with one of my cousins who I’m collaborating on an animated project with. Although my part has been put on hold for a minute, I was happy that he continued to illustrate for the series.
My Parents with Aunt
One of the most challenging things of the evening was capturing a good picture of these three.
Take Two
Part of the challenge is that my aunt doesn’t really like to take pictures.
Third’s the Charm
After all was said and done, my aunt revealed a “secret” to me.
Auntie w Her Favorite Niece
Turns out, I WAS her favorite niece! Actually, whether she was serious or bullshitting…that’s her.
Apparently Photobombing Is Still a Thing
Now, of course I couldn’t have the Queen for a Day all to myself for long during a photo op.
My Uncle & His Children
Actually, those are my aunt’s children as well. All of whom swore they were the favorite child for some reason or another.
My Uncle & His Sons
Truthfully, one only wants to have the favor of someone powerful. And lord help you if you fell out of favor.
Youngest in Our Family
Some people believe that the youngest children are the loudest because we want to be heard above our older siblings. Whatever the case, all families have their upstarts. I traveled the world as an international math/science teacher and my cousin travels around the world doing missionaries.
On Thanksgiving Day 2022, I had the pleasure to interview Uncle Floyd for an episode of Strange Family Folklore called, “Killing Santa Claus & Other Cascade Childhood Memories.” At the time, I knew what a blessing Uncle Floyd’s good spirits were. At 93, Uncle Floyd had reoccurring health conditions that demanded a change of plans at a moment’s notice. So, when one of his daughters, his granddaughter and I planned for the Zoom interview on Thanksgiving night, we understood that our call would only take place if he was up to it.
As charming as ever, Uncle Floyd regaled us with his memories, especially his childhood experiences of Santa Claus and the first time he went to the movies and had to “get to getting,” which makes sense once you listen to the episode.
After living life to the fullest, Uncle Floyd passed peacefully in his sleep, which, when the time comes, I hope I also can be laid to rest in the same manner after living an eventful life.
His funeral, which occurred on MLK Day, was like an unofficial family reunion. I hugged relatives who I had only seen virtually during our Zoom family reunions, but not in real life since the pandemic. Just like Uncle Floyd to bring us together on an occasion where we fellowship in his honor, apropros to how he enjoyed spending time.
Afterwards, I was so energized after a day of reminiscing and being with my relatives that I couldn’t go to sleep. Even though funerals are generally sad occasions, Uncle Floyd’s funeral motivated me to do all I can now and leave nothing on the table.
For the first time ever, I made a conscious decision not to add to my immediate family’s cathedral of junk. I googled “non-materialistic Christmas gifts.” From consumables to experiences, I brainstormed what was within my budget.
Initially, I planned to buy the ingredients for baked goods I thought they would enjoy preparing and then consuming. Yet, that would only have been a good idea for fewer than half of my family.
A better gift for one of my sisters and her son was indoor skydiving. That idea blossomed into including my other sister and her family.
I knew my parents, The Octogenarians, would only watch the rest of us make fools of ourselves. Instead, I’d treat my parents to a daytrip to visit a dinner theatre. Over the years, Mom had raved about a dinner theatre that was a few hours away, which she’d attended with her Red Hatters group.
Mom hasn’t been since the pandemic. Dad and I have never attended; so, this would be the perfect opportunity for the three of us to do something special.
The best part: as energized as I felt to provide these experience-based gifts, my sisters and mother were very excited to help plan.
Since one of my nieces was in grad school, the best time for us to go indoor skydiving was on Christmas Eve when all of us were at her parents’ house. Although I arrived at their house around 11 PM, I gathered my nieces and nephew around midnight, technically Christmas Eve, to tell them that their other aunt and I were treating them to indoor skydiving. They were surprised and excited.
My brother-in-law, already in bed when I arrived, had been told. Otherwise, he would have cooked the whole day. Not that I’m complaining. Normally that would have been perfect, but I wanted him to experience flying.
As far as the dinner theatre was concerned, after the holidays was a better, calmer time to schedule that experience.
It’s tempting to make this a family tradition, but knowing me, I’ll research another family experience. Next time, I’ll start earlier.
My sister invited me to participate in the Trunk or Treat activity at the church where we attend. I’d never heard of it before, but apparently it’s been going on for a while…to the extent that there are costumes to deck out one’s car that can be bought online. Of course. Halloween is my favorite holiday, but this past celebration was bittersweet because I’d donated all my costumes before relocating, so I couldn’t just throw something together for this event.
Plus, in my mind, I’m still in the process of getting settled. It’s more than simply unpacking my things. I’ve passed many a day stuck in rumination, so I hardly gave more than a passing thought about this activity. My sister and I even went shopping for some decorations a few weeks prior to the event, but nothing really clicked since I thought she was simply using my car to run her own Trunk or Treat activity.
As we got closer to the event, I’d brainstormed “Musical Pumpkins,” played like Musical Chairs except instead of walking around chairs as music played, kids would pass small pumpkins around in a circle until the music stopped.
In order to get a better idea of how we’d run our own Trunk or Treat, we visited another such activity at a school the week before.
Ever so popular Mario Brothers
The Haunted Cemetery
Or was it a portable haunted house?
More Mario Brothers
Skeletal Remains
Pumpkin Patch
Candyland
Spiderwebs & Pumpkins
The Nightmare Before Christmas
We didn’t participate in a single game and as far as getting candy. My highbrow self didn’t care for any of that cheap stuff. If I was going to challenge my prediabetic status, it might as well been with the good candy. In the end, I accepted a fun size pack of peanut M & Ms. Peanuts are nutritional. Besides, there were only five or six pieces. Nothing too bad to make my left eye throb…my internal monitor that there’s too much sugar in my blood.
Musical Pumpkin Patch
My sister bit off far too much. I knew that she was in charge of the event, but I hadn’t realized how much she’d signed off to do rather than delegating the work. In addition to decorating my trunk for Musical Pumpkins, she decorated two other trunks; had chopped onions in two different styles for the hamburgers and hot dogs; provided games for other people; had made a game out of styrofoam and a cardboard box; and circulated around the event, which was held in the church parking lot. In other words, I was left alone to run my activity.
Pumpkin Ghost Game
My sister had put a lot of effort into making the Pumpkin Ghost game, but turned out that no one needed it. I took it off her hands. The objective was simple: manipulate the box to place the three balls, which were painted to look like Jack ‘O Lanterns, into the three indentations, which were the ghost’s mouth and eyes. The dexterity needed to place all three balls into the indentations eluded most of the little kids, who wildly jerked the box around. The preteens to teenagers got it although I had to reset the balls in the middle of the styrofoam because they’d get stuck along the edges.
Dad playing Pumpkin Ghost
As hokey as Pumpkin Ghost was, I found that I became too invested while watching the kids manipulate the box. Without thinking, I’d be all up in the box myself before recovering and taking a few steps back. Even parents complimented me for such a simplistic, yet engaging game.
For some of the little kids, I encouraged them to try for at least one ball, so I could reward them with a piece of candy. The older kids walked away with at least two or three pieces of candy.
Nighttime View
I could have easily left long before the sun went down, but darkness brought out the beauty of the lights. I believe next time, Trunk or Treat will be held earlier in the day. If asked to participate, I will order a car decoration and have a matching costume!
I took a Friday off to travel with my parents to visit my father’s side of the family. On a rare occasion, we left exactly on time. Of course we left with the usual bickering between my parents, which is more of a sign of a longtime couple who’ve been married for 61 years. I sat in the back with my laptop and cell phone, not feeling the least bit weird of being an adult child relegated to the same position as much younger counterparts.
Our travels went blessedly uneventful until we reached our destination: Langley Air Force Base. Since Dad is retired from the military, we were able to stay in guest quarters on base for one-third of the cost of a commercial hotel. Instead of driving directly to the inn, Mom was absolutely convinced that she had to check in at the gas station across the street from the inn.
I knew that made no logical sense. I figured, “What the hell, I’d taken the day off. Entertain me!” I wasn’t disappointed as Mom asked the first random guy with a long ponytail about checking in at the gas station for accommodations at the inn. I normally use Mom as my example of a person in her 80s who still functions independently, but this was the moment I thought perhaps eight decades on this rock and increasingly taking on more responsibility as Dad’s caregiver may have finally triggered her breaking point.
Ponytail Guy confessed to being a civilian mechanic contractor for only a short time and stated he wasn’t too sure how things worked on base. I thought that was a sweet way of telling Mom she was crazy.
At this point, Mom called the inn, confirmed she’d misunderstood the original directive and drove across the street to check in at the inn. Once checked in, Mom drove us to a second location of the inn, which was about three minutes away, but with a much nicer view.
Of course there had to be another hitch once we arrived at our suite…or rather the door to our suite. The key card didn’t work. This time, it wasn’t Mom being goofy. She called the front desk at the other location and the receptionist sent a maintenance guy to let us into the room with other keys.
I knew I wasn’t going to eat at Golden Corral.
We were so hungry after such a long drive. Even so, when Mom suggested eating at her old favorite, which we frequent many a Sunday, I protested and looked up nearby restaurants. Thank goodness it was open at that time of day. I risked ordering a brisket sandwich. It was far better than the brisket I’d eaten in NC, but still not as good as in TX.
Afterwards, we made a quick trip over to one of my aunt’s house, which served as a central meeting place for all of Dad’s extended family.
Mom and Dad with his two sisters.
One enviable thing about retired people was their flexible schedule. No one cared too much that our arrival ended up being several hours after we thought we’d be there. This was a case of late being better than never. Dad hadn’t seen them in a while, but I hadn’t been to that house since my paternal grandmother had passed.
My uncles, who’d bravely married into the family.
The ultimate plan was for all the retirees to go to the local casino while I hung out with a first cousin who lived nearby. Even though I’d seen him a few months ago in Austin, I’m not a gambler and I’d recently started collaborating with him on a digital animation series, which was loosely based on his life.
As a matter of fact, thanks to this project, I learned that I actually can write screenplays. I think I was too stressed with other things in my life when I took my one and only screenwriting course. Secondly, I started researching TV bibles in order to write one for this series. Why has it taken this long to discover this storytelling pitching tool? Again, better late than never.
Morning view from my room.
Those retirees gambled into the night much longer than I would have originally thought they would have. Casinos must have perfected the fountain of youth atmosphere while people are gambling. Nonetheless, I slept well and woke up early enough to do morning stretches and writing before meeting my sister and her family and a cousin for breakfast…well, lunch by the time everything was said and done.
Our long awaited table.
All I can say is that I’m so happy I ate a banana prior to going to the restaurant. Not eating wouldn’t have “saved” my appetite. My sister and her family joined us in Hampton from their VA beach vacation. Our cousin merely had to escape his bed because he lived in Hampton. As a matter of fact, he didn’t even have to endure the nearly hour’s wait for a large table.
Post lunch group picture.
Again, I appreciated the fluidity of everyone’s schedule. My parents, sister, brother-in-law and I continued to the same aunt’s house after lunch. Part of the appeal was that my paternal grandmother had lived there in the last years of her life. The warmth of the memories made it feel like the “home house,” as we say.
Dad’s only living brother.
At 84, Dad is not only the oldest living brother, but the only one who’s reached that age. His older sibling passed at a younger age. Compared to Dad, that uncle seemed as if he was taken away from us too soon. All the fresh laughter from his antics are no longer with us. Even Dad’s younger twin brothers passed due more to life in the fast lane than age.
The four living siblings out of seven.
In a way, this trip was a mini family reunion. Hurricane Ian had delayed our visit by a week, but in the big scheme of things, that delay was worth our safety.
First attempt to get just the aunts.
I grew up thinking that Dad’s side of the family wasn’t too close, compared to Mom’s. After what I know now about the struggle being real, even after umpteen years of Emancipation, Civil Rights and every other movement in this country to bring us to the full expression of first class citizenship in our own country, I now think that so much energy was instead invested in survival.
Finally, a picture of just my aunts.
Now that this generation has retired, they can stop and smell the roses and enjoy a better life. They’ve definitely earned it. The closest permutation of me retiring will be working from home like I’m doing right now.
Of course Mom had to get in the mix.
I may not be the first generation who didn’t do better or as well as their parents, but the game has changed. I don’t want to blame that all on Nixon taking the dollar off the gold standard to pay for Vietnam, but that didn’t help.
The other spouses join in.
What also didn’t help was my passion lie in doing creative things such as teaching, writing, painting…pretty much everything which guarantee that it’ll be a long shot, even in good times, to make much money. Too bad I can’t monetize “rich in personality.”
Mother/son picture.
At the same time, now that I’m middle aged, I’m saving for whatever retirement is going to look like. Some days at work, I consider myself semi-retired when I have less work to do for the same pay. That’s the direction I’d love to move into. The biggest jump will be working for myself like I did in the before times. I had a good run with that while it lasted. At the end of the day, I’m not an entrepreneur. That’s not a good thing in a country known for such strong capitalistic ways.
Cousins and Aunt
I may not be able to control my work schedule, but I’ve already planted the seed to work reduced full time, Monday through Thursday. Oh, all the wonderfully creative things I plan to do, besides running errands and doing chores! It’s so tantalizing. I find it unbelievable that when other people retire, they feel lost because they were their jobs. As for me, I cannot usually find enough time in the day to do everything I want to do unless it’s on the weekends. Having an extra weekend day would just boost that.
Mom and my sister jump in.
At this point, I have conceded that I’ll never be in the position to retire. The best I can do is stop and smell the roses along the way. This weekend was just a taste of the possibilities of a three-day weekend.
Playmate cousin when growing up.
I’d heard more stories about my father’s side of the family than ever before. Not only am I old enough to ask the questions, I’m mature enough to listen and appreciate the answers. And for things that happened when I was alive, I marvel at which parts of the shared memory we’d all tucked away inside of us, only to bring those pieces out when we get together to see what the big picture would be.
The James River Bridge.
This sight always reminded me of the beginning and the end of visiting my Hampton relatives. Since Mom can’t swim, but does most of the driving, she makes record time across it. Her (ir)rationale was she wanted to minimize her time on the bridge just in case it collapsed and put her at risk of having to swim. I’ve never bothered asking her how she’d survive the collapse long enough to hit the water. Happy to report, just like all the other times, there was no collapsed bridge.
