There and Back Again

As Bilbo Baggins should have said, getting there was the adventure!

Sonny's memorial service was to be held Friday (2/12) in Cucamonga CA.  The blizzard of the century hit Pittsburgh just before that and dropped feet of snow.  I made my reservations so I could land in CA at a decent time for family to pick me up and get up to LA but I never really thought through the getting to the airport details for myself.  As has been said many times, the devil is in the details.
Unbelievably another storm came hammering into the NE bring tons more snow.  All flights to NYC, Boston, Philly and D.C. were closed, Buffalo flights were sold out and I had originally scheduled Pittsburgh because the winter weather in Buffalo is so tempermental.  That one gave me a good laugh.

In order to make my flight time I had to leave the morning after the latest snowstorm at an incredible 3 a.m.  I-80 and I-79 were not allowing motorcycles (duh), cars pulling anything, empty tractor trailers and the speed limit was 45 mph.  That's when I started to worry.  I did promise myself I would stop if I got scared, but it didn't happen, the main roads were clear enough.

I got to PIT and then the fun began.  I planned to park in extended parking but didn't know it had never been plowed, vehicles were parked every which way.  I was so glad Miki had convinced me I needed to take the winter beater truck,  I put that baby in 4 wheel low and powered her over as much of a snow bank as I could get and ran for the airport.  Then another mistake:  I needed to check my bag.  Southwest Airlines is a fantastic way to fly and inexpensive, but totally no frills so I had to check my bag myself.  That wasn't bad but since so many flights had been canceled days before, all that day's flights were 100% full.  The line was forever.  Starting to get even more nervous.  Then I had to go through security, at least with so many Eastern flights still canceled that wasn't so bad.  Now I'm running for the jetway.  Forget the fact that I had planned to have breakfast at the airport, forget that I was supposed to call daughters and boss to let them know I made it to airport.  As I got to gate they were already past boarding my seat so I hightailed it onto the plane and sent a quick text to let someone know I was on plane.
That should have been the end of the excitement but no way.  First we had to wait for last minute luggage, a little cringe here, I think mine was in that pile.  Then the chain is attached and they start to pull the plane out.  NO WAY.  We're stuck firmly in the snow bank.  The chain breaks, men with shovels appear, NOPE, then finally after an hour the front loader appears and breaks us free.  Everyone applauds and a little voice in my head says, "Geez I hope they de-ice us".  We start taxiing and we are going to a part of the airport I have never seen before.  YES.  We are being de-iced.  We left Pittsburgh 2 hours late.  I do want to stop here and say how great the Southwest Airlines crew was.  We were kept informed by both the steward and the flight crew during this entire time.  We also got a free drink.
By this time I figured there was no way I was going to make the flight connection to San Diego.  However, when I asked the steward he said about 10 of us were on that flight and he would see what he would do.  I don't know how they picked up the delay but we made it to Las Vegas I transferred planes and so did my luggage.  In fact I have no idea how the luggage was able to make it.  I walked out of the jetway from my PIT flight, into the jetway for the next flight and was seated -- all within about 10 minutes.

I have no recollection of the San Diego flight except for a very nice lady in the aisle seat smiling at me the one or two times I opened my eyes.  As far as I know that flight lasted 5 minutes.  It might have something to do with 2 Bailey's and Hot Chocolate (some breakfast huh?).

I landed in SAN, my family picked me up, and within an hour we were on our way to Ontario CA.  I remember most of the drive, dinner at a lovely French restaurant and then I slept and slept and slept.

Bruce Redux

 A brother as friend.

After high school we all started going our different ways.  Work, and college and dating and shortly after that marriage and family and children, they all got in the way.

What happened is common, we lost touch.  We weren't playmates any more, we were no longer in competition for attention, and grades and who could spit watermelon seeds the farthest.  I moved with my husband and kids to the East Coast and our lives didn't touch as much.

I heard second hand from Mom what was happening in the lives of each of my family members but we just lost touch personally.

Then, children grew up and went out on their own and suddenly we had time, time to travel and visit, and maybe even regret a little.  Bruce came East to Virginia to take part in a road race, I went down to visit with him and Jeanne, and we rediscovered each other.  Without the competition, and with the grace that age gives us (sometimes) it was great to connect with someone who shared some of the same memories and weirdly, looked at the world in the same way I did.  We found we had a lot more in common than in difference.  We talked and laughed and shared memories.  How cool it was.  It was great to find someone as curious as I am about everything.

One memory I will treasure forever now, we decided to meet in Niagara Falls in the fall and it was so much fun.  His wonder at the falls, his enjoyment of pitting himself against that water spray.  However, my favorite memory, is of all things, the Butterfly Conservatory.  We stood there talking and grinning and there were butterflies of every color flying around us and we stood with our arms out letting some of the braver ones land on our arms.  I don't need a camera to remember that time and now with him gone I will hold that memory close.

I had a brother and a playmate when I was young, and a friend when I was old.  Thank you Bruce.  God bless.

Requiem for My Brother

Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine :

et lux perpetua luceat eis.

In memoria æterna erit justus,

March 26, 1950 to
                 February 6, 2010

You all know and remember Bruce the husband, the father, the grand father, but I remember Sonny, my younger brother, my playmate and recently my friend.  I'd like to share some of my Sonny memories with you.

Sonny was born in Oakland Naval Hospital in March 1950.  He was in such a hurry to start living that he was almost born in a hospital closet as they rushed to ready a delivery room.  Of course he was premature, anyone with his love of life would arrive early.

We spent a couple years in Grafton ND with Mom and our grandparents.  It's a time we never remembered clearly except for a flight or two to California.  In those propeller plane days Sonny was allowed into the cockpit to see the pilot flying the plane.  How exciting that was!!


From ND we moved to San Diego where we spent all our growing up time.  First we lived in Linda Vista where Sonny loved to play in the canyons behind our house.  It was the beginning of his love affair with the outdoors.  The canyons started just beyond the end of our lawn and extended as far as the eye could see.  We had forts and castles and everything a child could want to fill their fantasy world.

He grew up the only boy in a family of girls.  There were many times he felt overwhelmed I'm sure but he held his own.  Even he admitted it was cool to have your own bedroom when everyone else had to share with several others.

Later, in Clairemont, he got involved in organized sports:  he belonged to the Boys Club, and the Boy Scouts, he played Little League.  He was always busy for sure.

We didn't have many toys but we learned to make our own, we made kites from newspaper, strips of wood and string with a tail made from a ripped up sheet, and they may not have been pretty but they flew.  We took an old rusty pair of roller skates (the kind that needed a key to make them fit onto your shoes), and a piece of wood and made our own ugly skate boards.  Really only good for falling off and scabbing your knees.

Sonny needed challenges, always striving harder for something, never content with the status quo.  He took every math class our school offered and they had to come up with math seminars to keep him busy.

He played football and he was much too small to be front line but in one game the fumble came to him and he ran it in for a touchdown.  Which, unfortunately was recalled as blown dead.  His one shining football moment.

After school he continued his love of life, his need of a challenge --  he backpacked Yosemite's back country among other hikes, he white water rafted, he broke a leg on a motorcycle, and then he discovered long distance bicycling.  It offered everything he needed, a challenge, lots of variety in the rides, and a huge sense of accomplishment.

I leave others of you to fill in the adult moments of his life, he loved his wife and children and was proud of their accomplishments.  He loved his grandchildren but again, those are his grown up days.

My brother loved life, and lived it to the fullest.  He was seldom bored, he died doing what he loved, and he is mourned by those of us who remain.  What more can we ask for in this life?

Sonny, I will miss you every day.  Thank you for being my brother and my friend.