Monday, July 31, 2023

From 44 to 45

I turn 45 in June. In honor of that, here is a list of 45 things I’ve done, experienced, learned, remembered, felt, or loved over the last year in no particular order.

1. Adventures in new places make me happy.

2. On my birthday, I go with my nephew and niece (and other family members) to see the dinosaur exhibit at the Perot Museum in Dallas and their excitement—my two and half year old niece saying, “Come on, guys, come on!” as she runs from skeleton to skeleton, and my four year old nephew’s hand in mine pulling me from room to room—is just what I had hoped for in terms of celebration.

3. I discover the Faroe Islands on a social media site and fall in love with the stark landscapes. The Faroe Islands are situated in the middle of the North Atlantic with Norway, Iceland, and Scotland being a triangle around it.

4. I dream of being in cold places like the Arctic, Scandinavia, Greenland, and the North Pole.

5. Unlike Hamlet, I find that Denmark is not a prison and I would not rather live in a nutshell.

6. Good rain gear is worth its weight in gold.

7. Watching my grandmother go through the dying process after a stroke is really hard. Grief can come before a death.  

8. Being able to share my writing with my grandmother who called me her favorite author is something I will always treasure.

9. Not all shoes marked (and sold) as waterproof are actually waterproof.

10. The MurderBot Diaries series by Martha Wells saves me when I am going through a really hard time. Which just affirms the power of fiction, character, and story to aid the human experience.

11. In September, while on a writers’ cruise together, my friend takes me along for a cave tubing adventure in Belize City, Belize. It’s unbelizable!

12. I go ziplining in Roatán, Honduras and try all the tricks the two guides will teach me; handstands, flips, the Superman, swing out to the side, zig-zag. It’s so much fun.  

13. The Peace Corps’s intensive application process proves too bureaucratic for me and I opt out.

14. While in Colorado dog-sitting for friends, I explore the Garden of the Gods trails, Red Rocks trails, and get lost (and then unlost) while hiking in Cheyenne Cañon. The last reminds me of the beautiful peril of the natural world while the support I get from the lady who answered the phone at the Helen Hunt Falls center will always touch me deeply (she asked me to call when I made it back to the car so she would know I was safe. So I did.).   

15. In person time with friends is special. Over this year I get to have friends join me for hikes, walks, dinners, lunches, brunches, hot drinks, movies, museum visits, and at home visits.

16. I finish a novel about three sisters that has a fairy-tale theme to it.

17. I receive at least five rejections for story submissions. Rejection is nothing new and I work to figure out what I need to work on to make my stories better.

18. I catch COVID while on the writers’ cruise and am still welcomed by my cousin (by marriage and once removed) to stay at her house in Houston as planned even though I’m infected. She encourages me to stay as long as I need, makes me feel entirely at home, and gives such good care. Under her roof, I sleep, disinfect everything behind myself so she won’t get it too, and eventually get a negative test. Even though it’s not the visit either of us had planned for, it’s still a beautiful time.   

19. My parents and I go to downtown Garland’s theater to see The Christmas Carol performed. My favorite part is finding out that the man who played Bob Cratchit had driven by the theater and dreamed of being in a play for years and years until something urged him to finally audition and he got the part. (He did a great job.)

20. I like Christmas traditions. I like the Christmas holiday. In the days leading up to December 25th, my mom joins me in watching the Muppets’ Christmas Carol and It’s a Wonderful Life.

21. I write two sci-fi short stories which still need to be edited.

22. In January, almost on a whim, I book a three-month trip to the Faroe Islands and Denmark. I have 27 days to get myself together.    

23. Life isn’t always easy and often feels unfair. Cancer can still find its way into a person who has done all the healthy things. My dad’s diagnosis shocks us all.  

24. With immense good luck, I miss a winter storm in Texas that cancels over 700 flights by a few hours and make my flight to Copenhagen airport with only a 20 minute delay for de-icing.

25. I, to my absolute delight, get a library card while in the Faroe Islands and am able to check out books from their English section.

26. The Faroese weather is ever-changing, wild-winded, and exhilarating.

27. Video-chats with my nephew make being away not so hard and very hard at the same time. During one call, he asks me, “Why are you always on trips?”

28. On another call, I tell my nephew I’ll take him to the park when I come home. And he begins to plan this trip with exquisite detail (for instance, we’ll take zoo animals and snacks) and he talks about it so often that I hope I can make the experience match his expectations.

29. Both solitary hikes and hikes with others have immense value.  

30. I acknowledge the huge privilege I have that English is the global spoken language. Even so, I still wish I knew every language.

31. Going to the Faroese Music Awards is interesting but would be more fun if I understood Faroese. The German man who organizes our going feels the same. The Faroese man who is also the son of the owner of the Airbnb where we stay is thrilled by the whole thing.

32. There is thrilling magic in being at the edge of a cliff where I feel like I’ve arrived to the end of the world.

33. While in France, I discover that while my three years of Duolingo French (plus simultaneously reading and listening to novels in French) enables me to navigate the written aspects of the language, my spoken French is abominable. Still, I try.  

34. I’m oddly surprised at how anxious I feel about trying to manage the Parisian transportation system alone (my sister was with me on my first trip to Paris).

35. During my three month trip, I walk and bike 442.51 miles (it’s probably even a little bit more than that because occasionally I don’t have enough phone battery to run the tracking app).

36. The promised trip to the park with my nephew (my niece and sister-in-law come along too) is a success. The zoo animals we’ve brought are the covet of all the other park attendees. We have several children join us in play. We eat snacks. We play on all the jungle gym equipment. We make new friends. We wear ourselves out.

37. I experience sheer joy while walking back from the little village of Bøur (on Vágar island in the Faroe Islands) when the snow begins to fall in huge flakes and again when I invite myself along with another Airbnb-er who is driving to the island of Vidoy to climb a mountain and we have to wait halfway up for another snowstorm to pass us by. In those moments, all is perfect.

38. The Airbnb mother-in-law apartment I rent in Skagen, Denmark is the quietest place I’ve ever stayed. I don’t want to ever leave.

39. Biking in a place where biking is part of every day life (such as Skagen, Denmark) is really wonderful. They have bike lanes and bike paths and bike racks and car drivers drive with care.

40. Traveling reinforces the truth that no matter where I go in the world, I will always find kind, fun, and interesting people.   

41. Reconnecting with old friends is precious.

42. Making new and temporary travel friends is another brand of precious.

43. In the end, despite my anxiety (and with my pep talk that I’ve done this before and have traveled in many places and via many modes of transportation), I make it to all the places in France that I want to go. The Paris (and environs) transportation system is a little complex, but not impossible.

44. I’m proud of my siblings for stepping up so much to be a help and comfort to my dad and mom during this really unfun time as my dad deals with cancer and all that that entails.

45. I’m blessed to be 45.