At this time yesterday, a Mediterranean cruise was the last thing I thought I
would be doing in 2015. By mid-afternoon today, we had a reservation and assigned
stateroom. Char and Mike, Linda and Bob and Walt and I will be in 3 staterooms one
right after the other. And since the price range we had figured we could afford was
sold out, we have moved up to the next price range, which gives us 100 sq ft more and is
entirely too luxurious for the likes of us, but I'm not complaining.
Linda had called to make a reservation and found out that
the staterooms we hoped for were sold out so she sent a note around asking if we thought
we could go one price higher. Within the blink of an eye, Char had secured two rooms
for them and us and Linda had reserved the next one for herself and Bob.
This will be our first time on a large ship (1000
passengers vs. 300 passengers), our first cruise on the ocean (staterooms come equipped
with binoculars, which I thought was a fun addition!) I wonder if it will be as
casual as the river cruises will be ... can I show up to dinner in my t-shirt?
But it really is exciting. I watched some of the
videos today and can't wait to get to Barcelona and take the tour of the
architecture of Gaudi. I don't remember when I saw a PBS special on his
architecture, but I thought at the time how wonderful it would be to see it in person, but
dismissed it as a pipe dream. Now it appears I actually will.
I really encourage you to watch this
3 minute film, if you are unfamiliar with Gaudi's work. (It takes a bit of time to
load; just wait for a few minutes.)
So I guess we're all set for our 2015 season...and we
haven't even done our 2014 cruise yet! Bob and Linda are doing the same cruise to
Southern France that we are, but a couple of weeks before we do it. I wish Walt's
mother were still around. She got so impatient with us for always traveling to
England or Ireland and never going anywhere else. I guess we have gotten past that
little problem!
Today I had lunch with my mother. I was going to do
it yesterday, but she was asleep when I got to her apartment, so I left a note saying I
would be there today.
I feel ... I dunno ... selfish, maybe? ... that I was so
depressed by the time we spent together today. She has lost the art of conversation.
I was pleased that I hadn't seen her in several days because I had lots to talk
with her about ... there were my two hearing appointments, my crab lunch, lunch with
Grainne and the others, reviewing Brigadoon, and working yesterday. I tried to draw
each incident out to make it sound interesting, and to fill more time and when I finished,
she looked at me and said, without having made a comment on anything I'd said so far,
"so what else have you been doing that's interesting?"
The thing about my mother that I noticed many years ago is
that she can't let empty space stand. Driving her to Santa Barbara, she would talk
the whole way, finding little things to talk about if there was empty space. That's
8 hours of talking. So she hasn't lost the need to fill empty spaces by saying
something, but she doesn't have anything to say any more. She probably asked me two
dozen times (at least) what exciting thing I had planned for the rest of the afternoon.
At lunch, she looked the menu over carefully and then
decided on the same lunch she has every day -- vegetable soup and fruit salad.
Before the waitress arrived, she had to check the menu again so she could remember what
she was going to order. And then when the waitress came to take her order, she
looked at the menu again because she couldn't remember what she had decided on.
This is all normal and I'm used to it by now because it
pretty much is how we have lunch every time we get together. But I wish I could talk
to her again, and I can't. I can, and she will respond, but there is no
"communication" going on. I notice that almost nobody comes to visit her
any more. Ed hasn't been there in a month and he used to visit her several tiems a
week when she lived in Marin County -- but he's discovered what a long trip it was that I
made for years. All the family claim to love her a lot, but only one cousin
visits regularly. Her friends came once, months ago. So if there is to be any
socialization, since she won't leave her apartment to talk with anybody, it's all on me.
And while I love her dearly, dear God I wish we could just once have a
conversation again. About anything.
The only thing we have that approaches
"conversation" status is the temperature outside. She doesn't leave the
building and won't open her sliding glass door, so for her, if she can see any leaves
moving on the trees, it's cool outside and if no leaves are moving, it's hot. But if
it's a hot day and I mention that it's 100 degrees out, she corrects me because she can
see a leaf moving, so it must be cool.
Exciting things are coming up, though, because
Jeri will be here to visit her in two weeks and Peach will be here the week after that.
She's good at faking it when new people are around, so it will be fun for me too
because I won't have to carry the conversation.
Day 40: Happiness is always the morning cup of coffee |
2 comments:
I'm so sorry. Damn, but it's tough. Are you still going to the support group? Hugs!
We did a Mediterranean cruise in 2012 (Venice to Nice). Smaller ship, though. We enjoyed it. On our trip to Iceland, we did a more up-scale small ship, and got really spoiled. We're trying to find something with them again.
I have missed the last 2 meetings and will miss this month's meeting, but yes, I'm still going to the support group. It does help!
Post a Comment