My 60's
Shortly after returning to Asheville, I turned sixty. Monumental, and disconcerting by design. However, I thought of myself as a young Farrah Fawcet or Olivia Newton-John. They looked great, right? And i feel sure that Cindy Crawford will look great at sixty. It was all about attitude, I decided.
The summer had been way too short. It was time to get Isabella to college and Liam into the 11th grade. Isabella had chosen William & Mary in colonial Williamsburg, Virginia. Founded in 1693, this was an institution with some history. Many before her had successfully walked the halls of this prestigious institution and had gone on to greatness. I personally had known one of those folks; the current president of the Federal Reserve Bank of Richmond, and he had written her a glowing recommendation.
Liam would be an easier transition as now he was driving himself to school, playing football in the fall and beginning the last to years of his classes. As an upperclassman, I looked forward to see how he would become a leader in his class. He was voted "most likely to succeed" and I could see the remnants of Brady more and more each day.
In the middle of August, we packed up the Suburban and headed for Williamsburg. We would stay the nite at the Fort Magruder Hotel and begin moving her in the following day. It was beautiful on that Saturday morning, August 16th, and I was full of excitement and sadness as we moved her in. Her roommate hailed from Nebraska; quite a ways away from home, and had come to study economics, Latin and history. Chloe would become a teacher, mother and wife someday; but for now, she was a "wet-behind-the-ears" college student from Nebraska.
After moving in what seemed like a mountain of stuff, we went to the dining hall for a bite of lunch. I had signed Isabella up for the meal plan, and she would be able to eat four times daily. I warned her about the "Freshman-15", as I had gained a little more than fifteen pounds my first semester of college. Having more resolve than I at that age, I knew she would be fine.
We stayed with her and roamed the campus until mid-afternoon. After purchasing some items at the Barnes & Noble school bookstore; like a lanyard, school sweatshirt and a few necessary ancillary items, it was time to retreat to Asheville. We left around 3:30 PM, and pulled into the driveway at 11:00 PM. I cried myself to sleep as my baby had left me. er father never got to see her go to prom, graduate or now go to college. My thoughts drifted from Brady to Paul, as I needed to feel something real that I could latch onto.
It was a long nite filled with tears, and the morning came too early the following day.
Thursday, September 25, 2014
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Sunday morning Paul and I had brunch at the hotel and then I would have to leave in short order to return to my children who had spent the night alone. They were good kids, so I had no worries. Amazingly, I had managed to be completely in-tune with Paul that evening, as Brady never once entered my mind. I wandered if that was progress or something not to be desired.
Paul drove me back to Casa Amor and I allowed him to have his first real kiss. The kids were happy to see me. They, too, had stayed up until the "wee" hours of the morning playing board games and watching movies. Isabella took me aside when the chance made itself available and asked me how it went. I told her exactly as I would have told any other, "Time will tell...". For a moment, she seemed excited which made me feel worthy of having "completed the exercise", so to speak.
We would only have three days left. Silvio would be returning on Tuesday, we would be packing, and by Wednesday; Casa Amor, "My Casa Amor", would e returned to its present owner. Just as the rest of the summer had, Wednesday would usher itself in like a horse jaunting toward the finish line in the last quarter mile in the Kentucky Derby. As I was packing Tuesday nite, I received a call from Silvio. We made arrangements to trade keys once again, and it would be back to North Carolina.
On Wednesday morning, Silvio met us at a very early 5:30 AM. I wanted to get a jump-start on returning to North Carolina. I had successfully; to this point, created a memorable summer experience that my children would not forget, and I didn't have any doubts that a couple of days in the car would spoil any of the memories. Besides, we were so worn out, that Isabella and Liam would sleep most of the way home. They had played all the games, sang all the songs and seen all of the sites on the way out. Coming back east would not be as enthralling.
It did take us all but three days to return to Asheville. I had promised Paul I would call when I returned, so that we could reconnect. He had promised to make some time to make his way to Asheville; somewhere he had never been. IT was all up in the air now, and I felt a heavy feeling on my chest as I pulled into my driveway and turned off the car. After traveling three-thousand miles, what was going to happen next?
Paul drove me back to Casa Amor and I allowed him to have his first real kiss. The kids were happy to see me. They, too, had stayed up until the "wee" hours of the morning playing board games and watching movies. Isabella took me aside when the chance made itself available and asked me how it went. I told her exactly as I would have told any other, "Time will tell...". For a moment, she seemed excited which made me feel worthy of having "completed the exercise", so to speak.
We would only have three days left. Silvio would be returning on Tuesday, we would be packing, and by Wednesday; Casa Amor, "My Casa Amor", would e returned to its present owner. Just as the rest of the summer had, Wednesday would usher itself in like a horse jaunting toward the finish line in the last quarter mile in the Kentucky Derby. As I was packing Tuesday nite, I received a call from Silvio. We made arrangements to trade keys once again, and it would be back to North Carolina.
On Wednesday morning, Silvio met us at a very early 5:30 AM. I wanted to get a jump-start on returning to North Carolina. I had successfully; to this point, created a memorable summer experience that my children would not forget, and I didn't have any doubts that a couple of days in the car would spoil any of the memories. Besides, we were so worn out, that Isabella and Liam would sleep most of the way home. They had played all the games, sang all the songs and seen all of the sites on the way out. Coming back east would not be as enthralling.
It did take us all but three days to return to Asheville. I had promised Paul I would call when I returned, so that we could reconnect. He had promised to make some time to make his way to Asheville; somewhere he had never been. IT was all up in the air now, and I felt a heavy feeling on my chest as I pulled into my driveway and turned off the car. After traveling three-thousand miles, what was going to happen next?
Sunday, September 14, 2014
I was determined to spend some quality tome with Paul before leaving San Diego. I told him to pick me up on Saturday nite promptly at 6:00 PM. He agreed. I took him to Herringbone. It was American cuisine, but I had reviewed the menu and thought it would be spectacular.
I even told Paul that I would be ordering that evening. For him, I chose the Wood Oven Roasted Berkshire Pork Chop, and I chose the Summer Squash Fettuccine. We each added some herbed fries, as I had a notion to eat something a little less healthy along with my fresh fettuccine. Once again, as we had done at The Marine room, we would share a glass to complement each course. We started with a Cava from Spain named
I even told Paul that I would be ordering that evening. For him, I chose the Wood Oven Roasted Berkshire Pork Chop, and I chose the Summer Squash Fettuccine. We each added some herbed fries, as I had a notion to eat something a little less healthy along with my fresh fettuccine. Once again, as we had done at The Marine room, we would share a glass to complement each course. We started with a Cava from Spain named
I only had a month more at Casa Amor, and I would begin to spend more time with Paul, and with Paul and the children. While it is always an interesting dynamic to see; and one that I hoped would never be a possibility at an early age for the children, Paul was doing an excellent job of fitting in.
Between the two of us, we found more free things to do in San Diego and nearby La Jolla, which was his favourite spot in the valley. There was the science center, the Museum of Contemporary Art, and the parks and beaches. We found a place for free concerts on Sundays' and while it was not your typical or even contemporary music, it was something to go and do.
Paul had taken the time to bond with Liam and they played golf at nearby Torrey Pines each week on Wednesday afternoon for the next few weeks. Neither Liam or Paul were good ball-strikers, but they enjoyed an afternoon on the course leading into evening. Additionally, there are two historic drives near San Diego; considered "must-sees" if you are in town, and Paul even let Liam drive the Mercedes. Impressive, I thought.
Isabella preferred shopping with her mother, and Paul did tag along a time or two and purchase a few things for her. To my surprise, she wanted to try hang-gliding, and so we all tried it. What a rush! I could hardly catch my breath from not only the experience, but the scenery as we flew like birds high above the land. She was my hiker, and took advantage of the National Parks, and also dragged us back to the zoo for one more attempt at seeing the lions and tigers be a little more active. We would return to the cages several times that day, but these ferocious beasts of the wild are just not to be caged and fed like house animals. I feel sure they feel frustrated, lonely, isolated and sad.
We dined at fine restaurants and in the next four weeks, I would have some of the best wine of my life. To be fair, Brady was more of a connoisseur than Paul, but he was not too shabby. He did appreciate food as much as I and the kids, so I have to give credit where credit is due there.
The eight and ninth weeks passed by way too fast, and I prayed for the eleventh and twelfth not to end. This was not my home; however, and I would have to relinquish the keys in a mere two weeks and return to North Carolina and Asheville, my home.
Between the two of us, we found more free things to do in San Diego and nearby La Jolla, which was his favourite spot in the valley. There was the science center, the Museum of Contemporary Art, and the parks and beaches. We found a place for free concerts on Sundays' and while it was not your typical or even contemporary music, it was something to go and do.
Paul had taken the time to bond with Liam and they played golf at nearby Torrey Pines each week on Wednesday afternoon for the next few weeks. Neither Liam or Paul were good ball-strikers, but they enjoyed an afternoon on the course leading into evening. Additionally, there are two historic drives near San Diego; considered "must-sees" if you are in town, and Paul even let Liam drive the Mercedes. Impressive, I thought.
Isabella preferred shopping with her mother, and Paul did tag along a time or two and purchase a few things for her. To my surprise, she wanted to try hang-gliding, and so we all tried it. What a rush! I could hardly catch my breath from not only the experience, but the scenery as we flew like birds high above the land. She was my hiker, and took advantage of the National Parks, and also dragged us back to the zoo for one more attempt at seeing the lions and tigers be a little more active. We would return to the cages several times that day, but these ferocious beasts of the wild are just not to be caged and fed like house animals. I feel sure they feel frustrated, lonely, isolated and sad.
We dined at fine restaurants and in the next four weeks, I would have some of the best wine of my life. To be fair, Brady was more of a connoisseur than Paul, but he was not too shabby. He did appreciate food as much as I and the kids, so I have to give credit where credit is due there.
The eight and ninth weeks passed by way too fast, and I prayed for the eleventh and twelfth not to end. This was not my home; however, and I would have to relinquish the keys in a mere two weeks and return to North Carolina and Asheville, my home.
Saturday, September 13, 2014
Mother.
I have met a man. His name is Paul. He has been in real estate for the past thirty-five years since the age of twenty-three. It would seem as though he has done well, although in the expensive area of San Diego and La Jolla, California, it couldn't be hard if you are any good.
I'm not sure why it matters, but I want to note that he drives a Mercedes. It is a sleek coupe, and to my amazement, the contours of the seat swallow you in and they even turn slightly as you hug curves so as to allow the ergonomics and safety of the seat to move with you.
He has been kind, courteous, and loving. Yes, I said loving. It is not that I am in love, but I can see the way that he looks at me. I seem to be caught in his grip.
He has also been generous with the children, As kids go, Liam and Isabella seem to enjoy his company. They warmed up to him since day one. We had a fabulous dinner out last Friday in one of the most scenic places I have ever been. The waves created sounds of soft grandeur as we dined. On the following Wednesday, he took us to La Jolla Cove; another picturesque spot only known to the locals and those of us who have Google. Have you searched on Google lately? It is an absolutely amazing resource, even for those of us who can't seem to keep up and are technologically challenged.
I am happy here at Casa Amor, and I will be sad to see it go. While I am excited to return to Asheville, North Carolina, and visit my favourite spots, I will be sad as well. Not depressed. Sad.
The children are growing in maturity and seem to have found themselves in some respects with the passing of Brady. I wish I could say the same for me, as he is at the forefront of my "noodle" each and every day.
I pray that you are well.
Stephanie
I have met a man. His name is Paul. He has been in real estate for the past thirty-five years since the age of twenty-three. It would seem as though he has done well, although in the expensive area of San Diego and La Jolla, California, it couldn't be hard if you are any good.
I'm not sure why it matters, but I want to note that he drives a Mercedes. It is a sleek coupe, and to my amazement, the contours of the seat swallow you in and they even turn slightly as you hug curves so as to allow the ergonomics and safety of the seat to move with you.
He has been kind, courteous, and loving. Yes, I said loving. It is not that I am in love, but I can see the way that he looks at me. I seem to be caught in his grip.
He has also been generous with the children, As kids go, Liam and Isabella seem to enjoy his company. They warmed up to him since day one. We had a fabulous dinner out last Friday in one of the most scenic places I have ever been. The waves created sounds of soft grandeur as we dined. On the following Wednesday, he took us to La Jolla Cove; another picturesque spot only known to the locals and those of us who have Google. Have you searched on Google lately? It is an absolutely amazing resource, even for those of us who can't seem to keep up and are technologically challenged.
I am happy here at Casa Amor, and I will be sad to see it go. While I am excited to return to Asheville, North Carolina, and visit my favourite spots, I will be sad as well. Not depressed. Sad.
The children are growing in maturity and seem to have found themselves in some respects with the passing of Brady. I wish I could say the same for me, as he is at the forefront of my "noodle" each and every day.
I pray that you are well.
Stephanie
Paul called on Saturday to say how good a time he had at The Marine Room the night before. He was complimentary of the children, their behaviour, there knowledge and conversation, and their maturity. He invited me to a local wine bar the following Wednesday; which I gladly accepted.
The seventh week was not unlike most of the rest. Lots of sun and fun at the beach, and rest on Saturday and Sunday at Casa Amor. I was interested in finding some free things to do as we had been burning thru cash at a rapid pace, Thankfully, Paul had picked up the dinner tab on Friday evening; which with the fine wine, was north of $400.
La Jolla Cove was a suggestion that he made Saturday while we were speaking and getting to know one another. He agreed to take the three of us there for a short visit on Wednesday afternoon, and then he and I would take the kids back to Casa Amor and head to the wine bar for a nite cap.
It was basically a cove near the water, surrounded by cliffs and protected as a marine reserve. It is popular with the locals, cliff jumpers and scuba divers. We decided to don our own scuba diving gear for some exercise and to view the great wide open that nature has to offer. That afternoon, I saw some of the most beautiful fish in all the sea. Paul had once again "struck a cord" with my children.
My thoughts again drifted to Brady and I would confide in Paul that evening about my marriage, my battle with depression, my running away and my suicide attempt; among other things. The kids had seen the best and the worst of me, and Paul would either embrace this side of me or run for the hills, as they say.
Surprisingly, he understood completely. He had dated women who battled with depression; and while those relationships did not pan out, I believe he could see the growth and development in me as a person despite the fact that Brady was at the forefront of my mind all to often, it seemed; or was it?
Finch Bistro and Wine Bar is where we would end up for a bottle or two. Paul was an experienced drinker, and despite the fact that he had three glasses to my five, we would be able to travel safely as we spent nearly four hours talking that evening. We talked about Brady and he mentioned some of the failed relationships that he had endured over the years,
At his age, I wondered why he was still single. What had kept him from marrying? I decided to write home to mother...
The seventh week was not unlike most of the rest. Lots of sun and fun at the beach, and rest on Saturday and Sunday at Casa Amor. I was interested in finding some free things to do as we had been burning thru cash at a rapid pace, Thankfully, Paul had picked up the dinner tab on Friday evening; which with the fine wine, was north of $400.
La Jolla Cove was a suggestion that he made Saturday while we were speaking and getting to know one another. He agreed to take the three of us there for a short visit on Wednesday afternoon, and then he and I would take the kids back to Casa Amor and head to the wine bar for a nite cap.
It was basically a cove near the water, surrounded by cliffs and protected as a marine reserve. It is popular with the locals, cliff jumpers and scuba divers. We decided to don our own scuba diving gear for some exercise and to view the great wide open that nature has to offer. That afternoon, I saw some of the most beautiful fish in all the sea. Paul had once again "struck a cord" with my children.
My thoughts again drifted to Brady and I would confide in Paul that evening about my marriage, my battle with depression, my running away and my suicide attempt; among other things. The kids had seen the best and the worst of me, and Paul would either embrace this side of me or run for the hills, as they say.
Surprisingly, he understood completely. He had dated women who battled with depression; and while those relationships did not pan out, I believe he could see the growth and development in me as a person despite the fact that Brady was at the forefront of my mind all to often, it seemed; or was it?
Finch Bistro and Wine Bar is where we would end up for a bottle or two. Paul was an experienced drinker, and despite the fact that he had three glasses to my five, we would be able to travel safely as we spent nearly four hours talking that evening. We talked about Brady and he mentioned some of the failed relationships that he had endured over the years,
At his age, I wondered why he was still single. What had kept him from marrying? I decided to write home to mother...
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