gratituesday – Page 9 – Retirementally Challenged

GratiTuesday: European charm without the jet lag

Our second stop after enjoying a few days in Montreal was Quebec City, North America’s only walled city north of Mexico City. Based on a visit my husband made there many years ago (pre-me), we decided to allow for a longer stay so we had more time to take in the sights.

The fortifications were developed between 1608 and 1871, erected under both French and British regimes. — The fortifications were built between 1608 and 1871, erected under both French and British regimes.

Upon entering the old walls, it was easy to see why Old Town Quebec has been designated a World Heritage site. The stone buildings and cobblestone streets are reminiscent of European cities and, of course, the French influence is evident everywhere. We were eager to check into our Airbnb and ditch our rental car. This was a town that begged to be explored on foot.

Our first Airbnb, nicknamed “The Gallery,” was very nice

After a nice lunch out, we often opted to have a simple dinner at our flat

This was to be our first experience with Airbnb and we weren’t quite sure what to expect. Fortunately, from the moment we met our host, Frederick, and saw our apartment, it was obvious that we made a good choice. The apartment was well-equipped and comfortable, and the small kitchen would help us avoid too many expensive and unhealthy meals out. It was just a few blocks from a busy area, but, since the apartment was located on a side street, it provided a quiet respite from the hub-bub. We were also pleasantly surprised that Frederick had put together a nice guidebook with helpful suggestions of things to do and see as well as places to eat.

As soon as we got unpacked, we put on our walking shoes and left to explore our new neighborhood, pick up a few groceries, and sign up for an English-language walking tour the next day.

Le Chateau Frontenac is said to be the world’s most photographed hotel

The Terrasse Dufferin is a favorite place to stroll, people watch, and take in gorgeous views of the port and the Saint Lawrence River

I am so grateful when I visit an historical gem like Quebec City. Even though the streets are filled with tourists (and, there wasn’t even a cruise ship in port), and Subway Sandwiches and a few tacky T-shirt shops have found their way in, Quebec City has managed to hold on to its core beauty. The centuries-old architecture, historic sites, beautiful views of the Saint Lawrence River, and lovely sidewalk cafes invite you to explore this living museum.

Read more about our visit to Quebec City in my next post.

GratiTuesday: Packing a positive attitude

Travel, as gratifying and life-enriching as it can be, also includes a certain amount of stress. Unless you have Oprah’s money, you have to manage getting from Point A to Point B (and then C, D, E, etc.), consume food that isn’t part of your regular diet, sleep in beds and on pillows that may not be the most comfortable, and deal with situations that are well out of your comfort zone, often while living out of a suitcase that is only slightly larger than a toaster oven.

Even before 9/11, travel—especially air travel—was getting more and more challenging. Long gone are the days when flying on an airplane was considered sophisticated and an occasion to dress up. Now, many modes of travel are over-crowded and frustratingly convoluted due to bottom-line corporate decisions and the need for heightened security. On top of that, with the ever-shrinking size restrictions airlines are putting on luggage, it can be difficult to get everything into your luggage that you need for your trip.

Who would want to interact with these grumps?

But, despite the stress and hassle, travel can be rewarding and even addictive. Often after being home for only a few days, we are starting to think about our next adventure. No trip is perfect (thank goodness—where would the adventure and grist for subsequent stories be in that?), but I find that our perception of each experience is much more positive if we remember to pack just one more thing in our suitcase: an attitude of flexibility, patience, and understanding.

By maintaining a positive attitude in the face of stress, your blood pressure remains in check and, often, you can influence the outcome. The person who is behind the counter usually isn’t the one who caused the problem, but they can help resolve the issue to your satisfaction. Long waits in line can seem much shorter if you strike up a conversation with others in the queue.

I am so very grateful that my husband and traveling partner routinely packs his positive attitude. He is always polite and empathetic even when dealing with a less-than-ideal situation. He can usually coerce a smile from someone who is determined to be crabby. And, he is a master of starting simple, but interesting conversations with strangers. I have witnessed the ugliness when someone brings a bad attitude to a stressful situation; I am so grateful that we don’t make room for any of that negativity in our luggage.

GratiTuesday: Healthcare and the Affordable Care Act

33 years ago today (for some reason I remember it was on Flag Day) what started out as a routine trip to my doctor for a simple, yearly check-up became day one of a medical journey. During the exam, my doctor discovered a lump in my neck – one that I hadn’t even noticed – and recommended very urgently that I have it checked out by a specialist.

Without going into a lot of detail, a battery of tests resulted in the diagnoses of cancer. My world, as I knew it, suddenly tilted and for the next year my and my family’s focus was on my treatments, tests, and getting healthy again.

I am very lucky that my disease was caught early and that my particular type is – and was at that time – no longer considered an automatic death sentence. After going through multiple chemotherapy and radiation treatments, I got through the ordeal and eventually regained my hair, weight, and my health.

The one thing I learned I would not regain is the ability to get health insurance from any other source other than a traditional employer. I now had what insurance companies considered a “pre-existing condition.” I could never freelance or start my own business. I could never change jobs without having a new position waiting for me with minimal interruption. If there was a probationary period in a new job when I wouldn’t have coverage, I held my breath and didn’t let it out until the wait was over.

I am just one of millions of people in the U.S. who were, before the passage of the Affordable Care Act, considered uninsurable on our own. If we didn’t get coverage from our – or our spouse’s – employer, we had to go without health insurance. It could be a frightening and sometimes financially devastating place to be.

I will be forever grateful that I had traditional medical insurance coverage when I became sick and so very grateful to all of the doctors and healthcare professionals who took care of me. Today, I am especially grateful that the Affordable Care Act has allowed so many people get coverage that would have been out of luck before. The Affordable Care Act isn’t perfect by any means but it’s the best we have right now.

GratiTuesday: The right to vote

As circus-like as this U.S. election cycle has been – and it promises to get even crazier as we head into the general election – my right to vote isn’t something I take lightly. I remember going to the polls with my mother and having her tell me what a privilege it was to be a citizen and be able to cast her ballot. Even at that very young age, I looked forward to the time when I would be old enough to do the same.

Vote

I come from a fairly politically-active family. My mother was a member of the League of Women Voters and politics was often a topic of discussion around the dinner table. Even before I could vote, I volunteered for political campaigns. One of my favorite memories was walking a precinct with the actor Jon Voight (who, I understand has since turned more conservative) in support of George McGovern. The look on people’s faces as they answered their door was pretty funny—even those who didn’t support Senator McGovern stuck around to listen to our spiel.

I have voted in every election ever since I was old enough to cast a ballot. Although once or twice I mailed in my ballot, unless I’m out of town on Election Day I prefer to physically go to the polls. There is something about standing in line with my neighbors and performing this very American ritual that makes me feel that I’m a part of a greater whole. Although many election results don’t turn out the way I’d like them to, I take pride in knowing that I took the time and my vote was counted.

California, with its rich pool of delegates, is one of the last states to vote in the primaries. At one point, we thought that we’d actually have a voice in the selection of the presidential nominees but, once again, it appears that it is a forgone conclusion for both parties. Regardless, I have cast my ballot and will watch the results as they come in this evening. Even if my vote won’t influence the outcome of the presidential primary race, there are plenty of local and state offices and ballot measures that need to be decided.

Today, the first Tuesday of June, I am so grateful that I can freely cast my ballot and that my parents instilled in me the importance of being involved and having my voice heard. I am also grateful that tomorrow I will no longer be the recipient of political robo-calls on my phone and that my mailbox won’t be stuffed with oversized, glossy campaign advertising.

GratiTuesday: My handy man

Hubs: What do you have planned for today?

Me: Well… I was hoping to finish my book for book club. Maybe do some stuff on the computer… putz in the yard… You?

Hubs: Well, I want to get that new kitchen sink faucet installed.

Me: ……

Hubs: You know, that one we’ve had in the box for several months now?

Me: ……

Hubs: I’m going to need your help.

Me: Um… sure.

8E86AA07-6118-44B9-8B14-9CBD545D4152

Dear husband gathers his tools and all of the things he’ll need to complete the job (including the ancillary items he has purchased over the prior week), then puts together a handy-dandy platform so he can contort himself comfortably while under the sink.

I’m at the ready in case he needs me to hand him tools and parts… as I multitask on my iPad and read a few chapters of my book.

I am so grateful for my husband who not only has a lot of very handy tools, but knows how to use them. I’m also grateful that he dives into less-than-enjoyable projects that need to get done instead of putting them off like I tend to do. Because of him, we now have a new faucet that works beautifully… and no leaks!

GratiTuesday: Moving beyond retirement into jubilación

Yesterday, as we were out running errands, I mentioned to my husband that it was the 2-year anniversary of my retirement. His response was, “Wow, really? Time has gone so fast, hasn’t it?”

Yes and no.

Although he was right that the two years went by rather swiftly, I also feel as if I’ve been living my retired life for a long time… and I’m getting pretty good at it. In fact, I don’t really feel “retired,” as if that word defines a specific post-work chapter of my life. I’m not just moving through a phase; I am fully engaged in my life. The Spanish word for retirement is jubilación, which I think is much more fitting.

A few days ago, I was at an event where I didn’t know many people. I thought it would be interesting to do a little experiment if when anyone asked employment-related questions. I wanted to avoid describing myself as “retired” because I’ve found that often that word can be a dead-end to a conversation. I was interested to see if a different response could generate more engaging dialog.

It didn’t take too long to find myself in the familiar, polite back-and-forth that often occurs with a stranger in a social situation.

Polite Stranger (PS): What do you do?

Me: I dabble in photography, write a bit, read, and travel whenever possible.

PS: I mean, what work do you do?

Me: Some housework, although not as much as I should, perhaps. Also, yard work.

PS: No, full-time. I mean, what do you do full-time?

Me: Oh. I guess I don’t do anything full-time. There is so many great options that it would be impossible to pick something to do full-time.

PS: Really? Tell me about some of the things you are doing.

And, then the conversation really got interesting. I don’t think it came up that I was retired until quite a bit into the discussion. I also don’t remember if PS told me what kind of work she did… it wasn’t important. I learned some interesting things about her that had nothing to do with how she spent 8-9 hours of her day. Who we are is so much more than our chosen career. And, when we are no longer wrapped up in that career, being retired is just a single data point, not a description of who we are.

I am so grateful that two years ago I had the good fortune to be able to leave the work-world behind and embrace jubilación. The word may mean the same thing, but it sure sounds more like how I feel.

GratiTuesday: The ripple effect of simple acts of kindness

In my last GratiTuesday post, I wrote about my first grade teacher and how a group of her former students had honored her at a luncheon. We all had fond memories of having her as our teacher and were grateful to have the opportunity to thank her in person so many years later.

There’s actually a little more to the story that I’d like to share. It is a detail that taught me – in two very important ways – how simple actions can still have a profound effect many years later.

Soon after my mother passed away in 2000—when I was still rocking from my grief and loss—I came home to find the message light blinking on my answering machine. The call had been from my first grade teacher, Miss Miller, who I hadn’t seen since elementary school. She said that she had read my mother’s obituary and wanted to let me know how sorry she was… then she shared a story.

Miss Miller told me about a letter my mother had written to her almost 40 years prior, just after I had completed the school year in her class. In the letter, my mother said what an inspiring teacher Miss Miller was and that the positive experience I had taught me that learning could be both fun and gratifying.

In Miss Miller’s message to me, she shared how much the letter meant to her. When she received it, she was new to teaching and my mother’s kind words gave her much-needed acknowledgement and encouragement. She said the she had kept the letter and re-read it many times over the years. After saying good-bye, she hung up without leaving her contact information or any hint of how I could return her call.

If you’ve ever lost someone you’ve loved, you may know how much it can mean to hear stories about how they made a difference in someone’s life. More than all the well-meaning “I’m sorry for your loss” and “Please let me know if I can help in any way,” these personal stories help to ease the sorrow and keep the memory of your loved-one alive.

Since it was pre-Google when Miss Miller left her phone message, I was unable to locate her. The phone book didn’t have a listing for her and my former elementary school wasn’t any help. I wanted so badly to let her know how much her message meant to me but I was at an impasse in my search.

So, that is a big reason why—over 50 years after being her student and 15 years after her phone message—when I found out that not only was Miss Miller alive and well, but that a classmate was still in contact with her, I jumped at the chance to re-connect. I finally had the opportunity to tell her how much I appreciated her phone message and how grateful I was that she took the time to make the call. It was a thank you I thought I would never be able to deliver, and I admit there were a few tears when I did.

My gratitude to Miss Miller goes beyond her being a great first grade teacher, it extends to two important lessons she taught me years later by making one simple phone call:

Never miss an opportunity to write a letter of appreciation or encouragement. Your kind words will mean so much to the receiver and can lift them up well beyond the first reading. An email will do in a pinch, but nothing has the impact of a hand-written note.
When someone passes away, if you have a positive story or remembrance about them, share it with their loved-ones. Tell them how the person made a difference; share a funny story; express your admiration. Sharing how that person impacted your life—and the positive outcome it had—will help to buoy them in their grief.

Thank you Miss Miller. Lessons learned.

GratiTuesday: Happy National Teacher Day, Miss Miller!

Today is National Teacher Day, a day set aside to honor those who make special contributions to the education of our society every day. Although I have had many wonderful teachers over the years (including those who teach the adult learning classes I attend now), one of the most inspirational teachers I had was my first grade teacher, Miss Miller.

Miss Miller was the kind of teacher any kid would be lucky to have. She was energetic, creative, patient, challenging, loving, and so much fun. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to be faced with a classroom of 7- and 8-year-olds, most who hadn’t mastered the ability to sit still for any length of time, few who understood the concept of using their “inside voice,” and even fewer who had any idea what to expect and what was expected of them. Because our class had a combination of first and second graders, her job must have been even more challenging.

First Second 1963a

Although we entered her world with different childhood experiences and varying skill levels, on that first day we were all lumps of clay. Over the school year, Miss Miller skillfully worked her magic and slowly molded us into 30 young humans who, in addition to our academic lessons, learned to do our best, be nice to others, play fair, and to find joy in the process of acquiring knowledge.

I met some of my life-long friends in Miss Miller’s classroom. We made our way through grade school together and many of us went on to attend the same junior and senior high schools. Although our individual circumstances have changed over the years, the bond is still there. One was my Maid of Honor, I was a guest in another’s home in Hawaii for 3 weeks, and I recently traveled to La Paz with still another.

From one of those friends, I was thrilled to learn that Miss Miller was still living in the area and was as healthy in mind and body as ever. I asked my friend if she could set up a lunch for the three of us so I could see my favorite teacher again and tell her how much she meant to me.

Out of that lunch came the germ of idea: we would gather together as many students from our first grade class as we could for a Thank You Miss Miller celebration. We figured that we couldn’t be the only two who remembered Miss Miller with a special fondness.

We reached out to as many of our classmates as we could and asked each one if they were in contact with any others. Pretty soon, we had about 20 email addresses. Out of those 20, we were able to get commitments from 10 – not bad from a class of 30 students who, over the 50+ years in between, certainly had moved on, both figuratively and literally. Happily, we discovered that we all still shared an appreciation for our teacher.

Group 2

The luncheon was a splendid success. Miss Miller (who will always remain Miss Miller to us even though she tried to have us call her Cynthia) was thrilled and touched by our show of gratitude. Her students—most of us now in our early 60s—had a delightful time catching up and sharing memories. As a special memento, we presented her with a book that contained thank you notes from each of us and our pictures, from first grade and now.

I am so grateful not only that I had the privilege of having Miss Miller as my teacher, but that I was able to thank her in person so many years later. How many 60-year-olds get to hang out with their first grade teacher?

Happy Teacher Day to all the amazing and dedicated teachers out there. You have made a difference in our lives and we are forever grateful to you!

GratiTuesday: My book club

Apparently, I’m not very good at pre-scheduling posts… so this GratiTuesday is being posted on a Wednesday. I’ll be grateful if you can overlook my ineptness.

Finding a good book club was on my list of things to do once I retired. I had sampled various clubs over the years but none of them really resonated with me. Some had core groups that were so thick I didn’t think I could ever penetrate them and feel at ease. Some were much more about the social aspect than the literature so few members actually read the books, much less wanted to discuss them. One was so strict that missing even two meetings was grounds for being expelled.

I was looking for a club that had just the right mix of social interaction and intellectual stimulation. I wanted to feel like a welcomed member of the group and to be comfortable that most of the club’s reading selections would be books that I would enjoy. Being retired, I also needed it to be OK if I missed more than a meeting or two because of travel.

Then, out of the blue, a new friend mentioned that her book club wanted to expand its membership and asked if I’d be interested. She assured me that the club meetings were lively and fun but also the members were serious about the books. Since I knew her to be friendly, smart, funny, and interesting, I figured that her friends would the same.

Now, after six months, I am grateful to be able to say that I’ve found my book club. I have met a group of terrific women who made me feel welcome from the start. I have enjoyed books that I may have otherwise missed and discovered a couple of authors I liked so much that I have read more novels by them. Not all of the selected books have been great—we all have different tastes and interests—but the discussions have been lively and insightful. Each month, a different member chooses a book and hosts the meeting at her home. The atmosphere is always cozy and comfortable, and, because we enjoy breaking bread together, there is always good food and wine.

Just the right amount of serious and social.

GratiTuesday: Wild parrots thriving in Southern California

First we hear a frenzied screeching in the distance. As the noise gets closer, it is more distinguishable as the riotous squawking of birds. Then, we see them. Sometimes they fly in a small group of 6 or 8, but most of the time, they are in flocks of 30 or more. They often fly together in an unorganized mass, then split apart in a raucous burst of energy because… whatever. Whether they arrive in a small group or a large one, it’s hard to ignore when a flock of urbanized parrots invades our neighborhood.

There are several theories as to why these birds, whose natural habitat are the jungles of Mexico, and Central and South America, now call coastal Southern California their home. Some say that they—or their ancestors—were probably caged birds released into the wild either accidentally or on purpose. Some say that the changing climate and decimated tropical forests are the reason. Ironically parrot species that are threatened or endangered in their native environment are flourishing here because our ubiquitous palms and backyard fruit trees provide the food and nesting habitat they need.

These naturalized parrots include blue-crowned conures, lilac-crowned Amazons, cherry-headed conures, mitred conures, red-crowned Amazons, and yellow-headed Amazons. I’m not sure which of the dozen or so naturalized parrot species frequents our neighborhood, but they are wonderfully colorful, incredibly loud, and a delight to behold.

Not everyone is as charmed as I am with the urbanized parrots – they have been known to decimate the flowers or fruits growing on ornamental trees—but I am so grateful for their presence. They are exotic, unpredictable, exuberant, and, when I hear them coming, it’s almost impossible not smile at their unbridled joy.