Shortly after I met Rob, his brother Dan invited me (and Rob) to join his climb of Everest’s East Face. We could hike with them to base camp plus help support fund-raising for this expensive endeavor.
I was a teacher then and couldn’t afford the price. I didn’t want to lean on Rob to finance my travel bug (yet). Now almost 45 years later, I regret that decision as I will probably not get to Everest, in this lifetime at least.
So I’ve decided that when a personalized travel opportunity comes my way, I’ll say, “YES!”
That said, regarding Norway:
Lucky me, I know the Egerdahls. We’re in a supper group together. Ed has been called the “Rick Steves of Norway.” He founded the Scandinavian Language Institute in Seattle where he’s been teaching Norwegian for more than 40 years plus leading tours to Norway for, like, forever. Ed’s wife, Laurie, helps. She is as fun and hospitable as the day is long.
Laurie and Ed are ultimately here for a family reunion in the town of Egerdahl (near Bodø.) The event starts two weeks from today. Between now and then, they’ve invited us along for their (so-called) finale tour. We’ll see what happens. So far, it’s fantastic. Skål!
Antes de jubilarme, era una psicóloga en las escuelas. Para mi acto final, me quedaba un sabático para estudiar español. Terminaba SPAN 201, 202 y 203. Luego viajaba por tres meses a América Latina donde vivía con familias anfitrionas. Recuerdo vivamente la cena con una docena de hispanohablantes en abril de 2019 después de haber regresado a casa. Finalmente podría comprender las historias rápidas y podría agregar un pequeño cuento también sin parar la conversación. Pero el próximo día, mi esposo fue diagnosticado con cáncer de vejiga en etapa 4. Después de eso, tuvo la cirugía y recuperación. Próxima, la pandemia y mi retiro se desarrollan.
Después cuatro años, Rob está bien, repetí las clases a la universidad y estoy lista para más inmersión. Estoy tan afortunada y privilegiada porque puedo viajar otra vez. Echo de menos español nativa.
Al fin de mayo, habré terminado una clase más. Mi gramática es un poco mejor. Pero mi memoria favorita de esta clase fue el día cuando nos dividimos en pequeños grupos de dos o tres para listar nombres de bloggers, influencers, embajadores, los brand advocates y los aficionados. Los jóvenes de generación Z en mi clase conocían miles de nombres. No conocía a nadie excepto a mí mismo. En mi mente no podía dejar de reír.
Es obvio. Tanto como me gusta montar mi bicicleta de un lado a otro, así como los estudiantes y mi profe, he agotado esta opción. Es tiempo para más inmersión. Mi confianza ha vuelto. No necesito más gramática. Espero que ustedes, mis seguidores, me hagan responsable.
Wherein our kids threw us a 40th anniversary party and did all the work too. What’s the real story behind this shindig? What’s our secret to a long marriage? You gotta read yesterday’s post to find out. Here’s where you’ll find representatives from the photo booth plus pre and post-event pics of family and friends, some from as far away as Indiana, Michigan and even, Australia.
So it’s May Day and no longer our anniversary month. Still, never too late for this story…
Long ago when we were kids, we met in an REI climbing class, fell in love and got married. This year on Easter Sunday—April 9th—we celebrated our 40th anniversary.
Many have asked, “What’s your secret to a long marriage together?” First, we both had to keep breathing and stay alive. That’s key.
On Earth Day, Cathedral Day, the Women’s Retreat and several of your birthdays—April 22nd—our kids threw us a party. People asked if we were going to renew our vows. Lord knows, we renew our vows on some level every day. We did sing Old 100th for a blessing in 4-parts to acknowledge how grateful we are. Our high-five at the end was one of my favorite “Amens” ever.
Four years ago, during Rob’s surgery to address stage 4 bladder cancer, I was alone in the hospital chapel. I held my palm out and pressed against the resistance I could feel from your prayers that were holding us. At our A(nniversary) Party, the net of love, kindness, and laughter was joyous and no less prayerful. Some of you were there in person; many more nearby and around the globe were in our hearts.
I am a fortunate girl. Hallelujah!
Here’s a collection of photos to give you a feel for it:
Our kids, Clarke and Carolina, Lead Musician and Leader of Frivolity, respectively
Rob raising his hand enthusiastically to say he’d been married for 40 years. Penny laughing.
And here’s when he was saying the same thing but not so enthusiastically. Penny still laughing.
Harmonizing “Be present at our party, Lord” to Old 100th
Our oldest guest, at 95, my mother
Our youngest guest, at 4 months, with his Grandpa
Having fun at the kids’ table
Dinner was scrumptious, thanks to Quarter Ton Events.
Quarter Ton Events owner behind the scenes with Chef Carrie and Sous Maddie
And what’s a party without cake?
There was Magic too. Our friend, Rick Swaney, had us spellbound.
Like I said, they were spellbound.
Riveted by Magic. “How does he do that?”
Phew! We’re compatible. We each picked half cards that completed each other.
And The Cumbieros! Great live cumbia music for dancing, with Clarke on the keys.
It’s been a while since I’ve led the conga line at last call.
We had Carolina’s Little Devils helping us with whatever we needed, including kisses.
So much love and care helping Mom down the stairs. A nurse, EMT, daughter and nephewall lended a hand.
After Party: Installing bees at the cathedral the very next day
Cathedral apiarist on the move
Instead of gifts, we asked for optional donations to St Mark’s Cathedral or nonprofit of choice. Still, our mantel is packed with cards and well-wishes. Thanks, everyone.
If you’ve read this far, maybe you’re wondering where the Photo Booth pics are. Stay tuned.
Also, many thanks to Kevin Johnson, Pam Reid, Melissa Pittz, Anne Reid, and others for helping us illustrate the festivities with these photographs.
As I reflect on what was the last day of our pilgrimage, I am also reflecting on my process of publishing my experiences to this blog. Writing is “always there” for me and poetry specifically, is always accessible wherever I am, as long as I have a pen and paper. (And if that is not available, then I’ll use my phone.) But this was my first time to share my poetry with the unknown world of the internet. It has been a process of choosing to be vulnerable while hyper aware of my words at the same time, using my core value of authenticity as the guiding light through it all.
I give many thanks to the awesome Penny for inviting me to be a guest author on “Always Bridging”. The opportunity was a wonderful gift and it deepened my processing of the pilgrimage experience. And I am grateful for those who have read these posts and joined the journey through this virtual lens.
Now with much gratitude: I present the ultimate (last) post for the series.
Pilgrimage Day 8: We started with Sunday service at St. George’s Cathedral and had the very special opportunity to meet with the archbishop. After lunch I spent time in St. George’s courtyard, where I sat in the sun writing (and re-applying my sunscreen!), soaking up the beautiful space (photo shown below). Later, a subset of us visited the Hadassah Medical Center to see the Chagall Windows. I was not previously familiar with this famous artist’s work. It was another wonderful opportunity to observe beautiful art and learn about its inspiration and history. The Medical Center also featured other artwork; my favorite piece was the sculpture shown in the photo above. I deliberately captured “Healing Our World Together” in the background.
I wrote my last poem for the pilgrimage during my time in St. George’s courtyard that afternoon, my final letter to the Holy Land.
3/12/2023 1:26 pm
Dear Living Stones,
In courtyard peace, we sit at nexus with time’s changing hand. A people who wander from exile to exile the other. Let us remember this: We are all of the land. In bread and olives, the cheese offers this blessing for new life. Water flows upstream to see the gifts that The Fountain spoke to The Well. Here I sit, with birds calling for a new way to be. The Fountain reminds me that there is always room for renewal in its pool. Just come closer.
In stillness, today there is not a cloud in abundant sky to cover my shame. I am still afraid. Fear binds me to this chair draped over thorns, vines in regret. But even the fruit fly who sips my coffee reminds me that I am okay.
In grace, I kneel before The Fountain. Flounder dreams below arches of the bishop blessed. Surrender sealed in water holy. Relinquish all you carry to the sacred: this pool.
In reflection, I see the bird nest hide. I have lost my shadow. We drown our memories together. It is here that I find my peace in St. George’s courtyard, underneath God’s grace in the Jerusalem Sun.
Always Bridging 