I have a couple of “super-fans” that make me feel so incredible.
It’s not that I need my ego stroked or anything like that, but when I meet someone who really only knows me from the things I’ve written, and they actually “get me,” it’s kind of profoundly wonderful! It not only validates the fact that words have the power to connect people, but it also encourages me to know that my words can sometimes have that power, too!
One such super-fan lives near me, and about a month ago, we had the happy occasion to have a long, lingering brunch together.
Sitting across the table from this blue-eyed beauty (with a charming British accent) who knew more about me than I think I know about myself gave me this safe and very warm feeling. The honesty that the two of us instantly found in our friendship was so affirming to me, and the exchanges and the heartfelt investment we have in the stories we both shared was really, really special to me.
When I started this blog, I made a deal with myself that I was always going to be truthful, and, I also made a pact in my heart that I wouldn’t preach to people — but instead, I’d always start by preaching to myself. So I’ve used this blog to work out a lot of my thoughts and feelings that come to me during any given day. And, I’ve also used it to post the story of my life that is filled with things I’m not proud of, and also includes many of the lessons I’m still trying to learn.
But I’ve also felt very blessed to have a place to post stories and thoughts that I’ve gained from others that inspire me or move me in some way. People I’m related to as well as people I don’t even know — but know of — have made it into a post on my blog, and that makes me so happy! It allows me to share this experience with others in a way that’s no longer just about me and my thoughts alone.
Anyway. Back to my “super-fan.”
One of the many things I have in common with this little beauty is how much we both loved our dads. Her father passed more recently than mine, so some of her feelings still mix in with the sting of loss more than mine after such a long time without my dad. But I guess what makes me so thankful — for her and for myself — is how both of our fathers live in the stories we carry in our hearts. My friend’s father left her with so much joy to carry forward, and every time she shares a memory or a story with me, I can tell how wonderful this man truly was.
So I wanted to pay tribute to my wonderful friend by posting a funny email she forwarded to me that her dad sent to her regarding a time when he and his wife (my friend’s mother) checked out a certain neighborhood in our area. It’s actually a neighborhood that people kind of makes fun of already because it’s pretty much the only spot in the Wine Country that was made especially for people who enjoy eating dinner at 4:00 in the afternoon!
But I’ll just let my friend’s father take over from here with his brilliant British take on what it’s like to be considering a move that was clearly not the one he’d planned…
…..
It was a Saturday, the sun was shining bright, clearing the early morning light frost so fast it was like it never happened. And then…IT happened!
[My wife] Josie says, “I want to go for a drive out to Oakmont, only to see what it’s like, of course… Are you coming?”
The end was nigh.
The writing was on the wall…
The Ides of March...
My wife had suddenly realized how old I was and was now preparing for HER future!
Oakmont, or CROAKMONT, as it’s referred to by people with a better than even chance of seeing 40 more years in “Gods own country” — and not even close to a long visit to God’s Own Place of Residence” — is a retirement community for seniors.
Oakmont is a semi-gated village of “BUNGALOWS” surrounding two golf courses. There’s a community centre, recreation complex, tennis, boules, shuffleboard, heated swimming pools, Jacuzzis, a gym, and, an all-important resuscitation station.
Next to all of this is a collection of charming shops and businesses, and across the street, there’s a drive-through Starbucks. Just next door to that, there’s a” one-stop” all denominational, low emission, crematorium. [Handy, right?] The Oakmont Starbucks do this triple low-fat latte in an urn, and as a loyalty bonus, if you get five refills, they’ll engrave it with your age, name, and golf handicap.
Come the famous day when the wife just pops the urn in for a rinse cycle and its all set for the “Final Grind.”
Mind you, it’s hard to find fault with the golf set up at Oakmont, and, a newcomer can pitch up any morning and there’s always a surprise “no show.” The bunkers are a little odd, though — not sand so much as a darker substance, what looks like coffee grinds, I think — and the 18th hole — which is called, amusingly, The Grim Reaper — is a 530-yard steep uphill rise to the clubhouse.
Just short of the green, and to the left of the resuscitation station, is a “do-it-yourself” chute that delivers you back to the village centre, on the Starbucks side of the road, of course. The whole place gives the impression of a rather full life-cycle, I suppose. But I’m not into it…
So I told Josie I am happy where I am, and then I said, “You don’t want to move [Croakmont] to be a Golf Widow do you?”
And she said, “Whatever you want to call it old man…“
[Signing off now]
Just A Happy Healthy Husband message thanking readers like you for caring!
