Showing posts with label volunteering. Show all posts
Showing posts with label volunteering. Show all posts

Monday, October 15, 2018

Returning to Old Places and Discovering Something New. Always.

I am writing this as I am sitting in my hotel bed somewhere in The Rockies after climbing up the elevator while listening to the hotel radio playing “Linger” by The Cranberries. I remember where I was the first time I listened to this song and fell in love with the Irish band: I was in Romania and the year was probably around 1990 something ... How long I have come! How far I have traveled! ... This life truly is a trip!


This is my umpteenth hotel in the past two months which have had me traveling from the Atlantic to The Rockies, to the Atlantic and back to The Rockies again ... How I could manage to do so much travel while dodging two hurricanes still boggles my mind, but that is a topic for another blog...

For this one, I just wanted to stop and remember the fun times we have had, the new places I found and the old ones I have rediscovered during these past few months.

We started this marathon with a return trip to Asheville. We had not been there together for 11 years. Just saying that sounds wrong, but it is true. 

Asheville seems both stuck in a timeless warp and anew and fresh with new blood at the same time. The streets are filled with hippies, Krishnas, dirt, music, joy, laden with history and memories; a bon vivant-ness flows in the olden streets at dusk on a Saturday; the breweries abound and lure the traveler in with summer brews waiting to be savored, the mountains are a stone-throw away, ready to be explored. At the end of August, Asheville was still very hot. The city seemed a lot more crowded and a lot more happening than I remembered it ... That was the new part.


The Biltmore was gorgeous, in its everlasting beauty. The only thing that rivaled its beauty and richness this time around was an exhibit of Chihuly’s works of art - stunning beauty creations of massive amounts of glass and steel. The glassworks paired with the natural beauty of the gardens and the mountains, juxtaposed with the carefully detailed architecture of The Castle gave us a wonderful escape from our daily grind into a world all its own - grandiose, rich, timeless.




Chihuly at Biltmore was one of those things you'll remember as long as you'll live. It was not on my bucket list, but it so should have been. If you ever have the opportunity to see this artist's work, don't hesitate! How something so fragile can withstand so much nature and abuse is amazing to me. A great reminder of every one of us: we're so brittle but we all weather storms.


We had brunch at The Grove Park Inn, and that was hands down the most varied and plentiful brunch I have ever had anywhere. I thought for years that the brunches in Sundance or Snowbird, Utah were well done, but The GPI has them beat.  Till proven otherwise - the best. I usually go for the smoked salmon at these feasts, but I had not one but three choices of smoked fish with this one: salmon, trout, and mackerel, alongside any other seafood you can imagine, from shrimp, to oysters and lobster ... This just to name one kind of the many kinds of dishes they offer.


The majestic stonework at The Grove Park Inn


It’s amazing that we did so much in Asheville just in a one-night weekend. I am so glad we are back in these parts where we could escape to so many places within driving distance from us, on impulse and be able to see and do so much!


In September, we went to our first Triangle Heart Walk, which benefits the American Heart Association and gives the money to the research in our communities. I have participated in it before in other communities, and this has been a cause which I have supported, for obvious reasons (if you know me) for years. All I can say about this event is that it ... was ... hot. Not just hot, but exhaustingly hot ... We were wimps and walked 1 mile instead of the 3 because it was brutal! As a heart patient, it was a great meet: I always like to hear the stories of other people “like” me - we’re really all unique and every heart condition is different. This was my first time meeting a heart transplant patient and being every bit as amazed, in awe, and overwhelmed as I always thought I would be when faced with such an individual. He was an inspiration. There is something special about people who get to die a little and then come back, there is no doubt about this. None.


Also in September I got to jump on a plane and come to Park City, UT for a conference. It has always been melancholy to travel back to the place I called home: my first married, happy home, for seven years. A place where I had always dreamed I would live. It’s a bitter-sweet feeling to go back: I miss these parts but I know, in my heart, that I don’t belong here anymore. Park City was cool and bright gold from the changing aspen; a perfect backdrop for the start of the fall.


Aspen mountains on the lake in Park City, Utah


Back on the East Coast it was time to take my sweet, amazing nephews to the SC beach - one of them for the first time in his little 7 year-long life! Call me crazy, but for a childless person, I have always enjoyed traveling with kids. It is amazing to see how they step out of their comfort zone and explore a world they didn’t know that existed. We started by barely being able to pull them out of the house, and pry them away from their devices with more or less force, and we ended with not being able to round them back up and bring them back in the room when they discovered how much fun jumping over the waves or floating in the lazy river, or sinking in the pool is. For two kids raised in the frozen tundra of Canada the beach was “pure paradise.” They said as much. To see the sparkles in their eyes with every new “different” restaurant experience or shopping adventure is rejuvenating. Reminds us, old, and cynical people, that the world should never cease to wonder us, as long as we stay open and come out to meet it.


First time together jumping the ocean waves - a breathless moment in time. So grateful to have been able to give them this and share this with them.


In Park City, I wore sweaters and scarves. In Myrtle Beach, SC, I wore a bathing suit and thought I was literally melting, decomposing, surely dying from sun exposure ...


Again, Myrtle Beach is one of those trips back in time for me, but I always make a point of finding something new to explore even in my old timey places. This time was the Pier 14 Restaurant which is literally on the Ocean (on stilts, part of a pier) and which did not exist 20 years ago when I lived there. The grouper filet and the mashed potatoes were to die for! I can say I got my seafood fix during this trip, for sure, and as any respectable coast town theirs doesn’t disappoint.


Blaga (look him up: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lucian_Blaga) says that "eternity was born in a village." I say that we see eternity with our own naked eye in every sunset we watch.
There is something of that when the sun is being born from the immensity of the sky and it's reflecting its birth into the immensity of the ocean ... Time just stands still forever ...

And after all that adventure, I am back in The Rockies for more work and maybe some play, too ... As exhausting as these past two months have been, and as much as I still miss home, I am very fortunate, lucky and blessed beyond belief to be able to do this much. Not just financially, not just through the grace of my employer, but also through the grace of God and the knowledge of all my doctors who keep me going at this speed in my advancing age (aren’t all our ages advancing?!), with my advanced health problems.


I am also grateful that the world we live in is, still, allowing to some extent for us to mov about freely and explore it deeply. This is no small gift especially nowadays! 

I will continue to push on, open more doors, discover more of what this life has to give me. One page at a time.


“ ... if you could return, don't let it burn, don't let it fade...” (The Cranberries, Linger)

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

A Sad Day for Memories (and Books)

I know that you have heard the phrase “it’s an end of an era” and you think it’s either cheesy or obsolete. But in my opinion … it’s truly descriptive, too, and for just a second, when you hear it next time, (really) take a moment and (seriously) think about it! Think about its true meaning when someone uses it because it’s really … the end of an “era”. An era, with everything it brought and stood for, someone’s hopes, desires, white nights’ planning, someone’s dreams – just … closed! Gone. Vanished. Nothing but a memory now. You can’t even share it with your kids!

With Blockbuster closing stores all over the nation weeks ago and Borders doing the same by the end of April, the word of the day at my house is “sad”. I still refuse to “sign up” for mail videos and monthly fees! I want a movie when I want a movie, not because I have that membership that needs to pay off by the end of the month! Some months, I won’t want any movie at all. And call me crazy, but I like browsing by touching. Reading the back of things. Flipping through pages. Sometimes, in my shallow days (clear throat), I like to rent a movie or buy a book by just letting what’s on the cover guide me … Back and front.

And things get progressively worse for me when books, or papers, or any of the printed word is in danger of being dumped into “the past”. So, closing a bookstore is like national mourning day for me. One of my childhood dreams is to work in a bookstore or a library! As in a “real” one. Not the "click" and “add to cart” kind …

And Borders (just like Barnes and Noble, for another instance) is more than just “books”. In my old hometown (Greensboro, NC), Borders was a place of refuge and a second home. With nothing to do on a Sunday afternoon, I’d wander in there to browse the bargain shelves and the new releases.

I will never forget that Borders was in fact the first brick-and-mortar cd store I have ever browsed in my whole life. It was not Best Buy or … some other designated “music” store, but Borders. Just picture Alice in Wonderland and that was me in front of the cd racks! “Wow, they have a whole store full of shelves of these?!”. And you could slip the headphones on and preview what you bought. Atlanta, GA - 1998.

Borders was that place I went to to decompress after an intense movie, because it was next door to a movie theater I frequented. Or that place I went to to kill some time if I was too early for the movie! Borders was a great place, for a single, bored, gal, to people watch and have blind dates, even. For some reason, I never picked Barnes & Noble for blind dates! Too crowded, I guess! And I loved watching people who read. And browse the “real” things. That’s what formed me, that’s what put me through school and gave me an education – real, paper books with real, smelly ink on them. Being close to that culture was sybaritic to me.

The Borders in my new hometown is not closing - at least not yet – and I am grateful for that. But I am still sad to see a place that had so many avenues for dreaming open for so long say “good bye”.

I am hoping bookstores and libraries are never becoming a has been in my lifetime! I love the smell of books, old and new, still. Nothing, no amount of Yankee Candle factory made smells can replace that!

Today is a perfect day to volunteer to work for a local library – which is exactly what I did over lunch. Put my name on the list for two of them. Just to be close to real books and people who read them.

Good bye, (Greensboro) Borders! And thank you for the memories.