Christmas With The Fam

I have spent a few great days with family for Christmas.

It was fewer family and fewer days than last year (which was a hoot and a half), but delightful and certainly worth the trip.

OK, here we go: Why? Because some of us are getting old, and some of us are sick; because good family is a gift to be appreciated and treasured; because we enjoy and love each other; because we wanted to check on each other and ourselves; because we ARE touchstones to each other; because of the hugs and kisses; because of the stories and conversation; and because, just like last year, we laughed so much that we cried tears and our abs hurt.

My 92-year-old aunt declared she's made a pact with God... that unless she's going up, she's just not going. We wondered if it was really God she was making that pact with. Then my brother cousin-in-law tells her that she would indeed be able to do that cruise she's always wanted if she went in a shoebox.

My nephew second cousin, back home after a breakup, was discussing a girl wearing a bathing suit with its neckline down to her bellybutton. I asked him if they use double-sided tape for that. He was incredulous, and said who cares how they do it... except maybe for an engineer.

I noticed my sister cousin gave everybody flannel pajamas... because South Florida had a few freezing nights recently. So, why also give everyone wallets and purses? (I wanted to know who had won the lottery!)

And some of us just acted a little goofy.

Oh, and the food was great, the weather beautiful, and bicycling terrific... as always. Thank you, guys. I will be heading home the slow way, missing everyone but remembering fondly.


- © 2011 by Willy

Change?

Only babies like to get changed.

I like my life just fine the way it is, thank you. I like my routine because it keeps me sane amidst all the other change that hits me and that I have no control over.

Sometimes life is just a swirl of problems, especially this time of year... the government end-of-year. My world spins. Work has to be completed and reports are due, end-of-year money has to be spent, new year budget request are input. Everybody... but everybody... has things they want, new regulations to follow and demanded expectations to meet... in addition to my already overloaded schedule. I can do a better job if I stick to well-worn procedure and schedules.

At my touchstone, the swirling comes to a stop, albeit temporary. I stick to my routine of fitness and outside activities as much as possible, sometimes slightly modified, as I've done lately in training a buddy for his first big hike.

In early 2007, I updated the house to take care of ended-relationship emotional turmoil (one major change to help take care of another major change). I actually planned to sell but the mods came out so well that I kept the house... it would have been more change otherwise. But it was a year of pure hell. Not only did I grieve about the relationship end but also one night when I came home I found my mattress in the closet (and that's where I slept) because the hardwood guys put it there to get it out of the way.

A needed TDY to Hawaii? Not for me... send a kid. Invited promotion to an important and visible position? Not for me... get the other old guy. I'm just fine the way I am. And I suspect you are too.

And a corollary: I especially don't need some gal getting interested in me, because she'll want to change me.


-© 2010 by Willy

P.S., sooo... do you like the results of the change brought about by the new congress and the new administration?

Touchstones

Every house has a foundation and every machine has a frame, and every person has to have a touchstone or cornerstone.

My touchstones are my career and my 1973 Corvette. My career started in 1960 with a love of rockets and a distaste for people. I ordered my Vette in 1972 and I have measured my life as referenced to the Vette. Many people have dissapointed me, whereas the Vette has independent suspension, all disk brakes, plenty of power, looks great and does not criticize me. I take it out for a hard drive some weekends to calibrate myself.


My psychologist daughter's touchstone is people. She has to touch that foundation often, and feels refreshed and recharged when she does. She just got back home after a couple of weeks with family.


- © 2010 by Willy

Touchstones

I'm visiting family this weekend, centered on my eightynine year old aunt Melita... the last of the elders of a large, tightly knit, ethnic family, now in assisted living... a place she calls her cushy prison. Today we had brunch at a nice ethnic restaurant and went sightseeing along old traunts. Also visited Delia, a cousin with Alzheimer's. Tomorrow, we have brunch at Caloli's (one cousin) and dinner at Carolina's (another cousin).

I am not used to the rapid and multiple conversations of my old cultural family group... sometimes they talk and listen to three conversations simultaneously... it's like having had a dozen cups of coffee, so even though I thoroughly enjoy them, I also enjoy the peace and quiet of my motel room afterwards.

Monday, I have all to myself, so I'm renting a bicycle to retrace some of my childhood rides... newspaper routes, school routes, and church routes, mostly... there was no family nor personal car 'till college, and I was and still am very hyperactive, independent and adventuresome, so I rode everywhere, in all weather.

What I am and do now is just an extension of what I was and did as a kid. There have been gradual evolutionary improvements, but no radical changes. From bringing home discarded TVs for parts to designing high-tech equipment, and from toys to the real things. I've avoided people all the way. I am what I am, and have always been. And aunt Melita is a touchstone I use to measure not only how far I've gone but if I've stayed on course. She'd tell me if I don't notice... and so would my many cousins.

My life's always been in forward motion, and will continue to be... quite the chicane.

- © 2008 by Willy
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