The last of the siblings....

My mother was the youngest of 9 brothers and sisters. The last sibling passed away this morning. I don't even know how old he was.

My mother grew up poor. Very poor. Her father who was a Baptist minister, died when she was just 7 years old. They had no running water, dirt floors, no electricity. She had to quit school in 8th grade to go to work to help support herself and her mother.

Her brothers all married and went off to war, all except for one I believe. Her sisters married and had started families of their own. It was just my mother and her mother.

My uncle was named Clement, although they called him "Bear". From what I understand it was becaused he loved bananas. But I always thought monkeys loved bananas. I guess it would have been harder having an "Uncle Monkey" than an Uncle Bear.

He was in the Korean war and my mom told me that left him with a lot of mental scars. He had a nervous breakdown a few years ago and hasn't been the same since. I remember taking my son to see him one halloween for trick or treat. He used to smoke cigars. Des was dressed as Babe Ruth. So my Uncle, with my permission, gave Des a Cigar,still wrapped in plastic to use as a prop for his costume. Des was thrilled (even though he said smoking was "gross").

My uncle used to tell me stories of his childhood. He was one of those "slow talkers". It would take him forever to tell a story that could be told in 2 minutes. But I always listened to him. And though I can't recall any of the stories at this time, I can still remember sitting across from him, and him leaning in and telling us the stories...I can still remember the smell of the cigar.

He was a sweet man who had one of the nicest yards in town. He did all his own yard work for many many years. Up until he could no longer do it under doctors orders.

He will me be missed in my family. We are heading up to New Jersey for my son's injury case next week, and I hope the services coincide with our trip. If not,I will stop in and see my aunt and cousin and give my condolences. He was the last one and at least now I know they are all together....somewhere...sitting and chatting, William, Walter, Everett, Joe, Hazel, Myrtle, Doris, Clement and Peachie.

Today I give thanks for so much

This year I have so much for which to be thankful.

1. My son is alive, graduated high school and is attending a great college and is doing so well.

2. My son is driving (finally), has his own car and so far is acting responsible. :)

3. We are healthy and happy

4. The government bailed out Citibank. I have mixed feelings on this but since Citi feeds us....I am thankful.

5. I have a wonderful, caring, loving husband who takes such great care of us.

6. I have a great job and like what I do.

7. I finally found two very special people I have been searching for for more than 20 years. I hope they allow us into their lives. I am thankful for finding them.

8. I am thankful for my warm comfortable home and all the things that come with it.

9. I am thankful for my family. Even though they live far away, they are in my heart.

10. And last but not least, I am thankful for my life. It's a good life and I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Update on the driving..

My son passed his test with flying colors. We were both excited about it. The gentleman helping us with paperwork when we approached the desk was a very sweet quiet gentleman who was soft spoken and patient. He asked Desmond if he was registered to vote. We both said yes. I commented that it was very exciting to vote this year and we were happy with the outcome. The gentleman said he was also and was still walking on clouds himself.

He asked Desmond if he wanted the best and Des said "yes of course". So the gentleman finished Des's paperwork and then proceeded to come around the desk to take Des out for his test. :) Sometimes people leave a lasting impression on you and this gentleman did. Desmond was wearing a tee shirt from his Model United Nations Club in High school. It was a dove carrying the letter A from the word WAR to the word PEACE. He asked Desmond about the shirt, so Des explained where it was from and it's meaning. The man said he liked the shirt and wouldn't mind having one for himself. Desmond said during the test, the man never wrote anything down. He asked Desmond if he knew anything about Dogs. Of course having a JRT, we do, so the man asked Desmond if he knew what kind of dog would be best for his special needs grandson. Des said they chatted about life in general and it was a very pleasant experience.
Once the test was over, Desmond said the gentleman told him he passed with flying colors and they came inside.
Desmond said it was a bit surreal. I won't forget this man. He didn't pressure Des, he didn't appear to be an authoritarian, he treated Des with respect and kindness.
(This was Desmond's third driving test, the man could have been a butthead about it).
We are still car shopping and looked at a promising one yesterday that just needed a new paint job. Nothing Maaco could'n't fix. Today we will go again and look at two more. The right car is out there, just waiting for our checkbook.

Planes, trains and automobiles....

Well, its come to that time folks. Time to buy the son a car. He still doesn't have his drivers liscense but I don't want him driving my car. We paid for professional driving lessons and he takes his test next week. He has failed twice. (Hence the professional lessons). So, today I will start my search for a decent car for him. I just don't want him coming home on the weekends and wanting to drive my lovely Hyundai. I just know something will happen to it. If he dings, or scrapes his car, thats on him.

He was a late bloomer with the whole driving thing. Said he wasn't ready at 15 to get his permit. He said driving is "an awesome responsibility" and he didn't think he was ready. Finally at 17 we told him it was time for the permit. He was 18 in July and still no liscense. We are hoping this time he passes. He failed the first time because a pregnant lady crossed the parking lot ahead of him, he was going over a speed bump, slowed down, proceeded over the bump. By the time he got across the bump, she was on the sidewalk. He didn't stop. He failed. Those damn pregnant women! When he told me why he failed, at first I thought he was kidding. Sounded like something he would make up as a joke. But then the look on his face told me he was serious. Poor kid, what a way to spend your 18th birthday, failing your driving test.

So, wish us luck on finding a decent car we can afford, and....wish him luck passing his test. Oh and wish me luck on getting any sleep after he starts driving. I worry constantly about everything and this is just another thing I have to worry about. Him driving, in Florida. We all know how that can be.

So Proud

I am so proud to be an American tonight. So glad I was able to see this in my lifetime and share this with my son!

Vermont in Autumn? NOT!

I wanted to go see the leaves change up north for vacation. I figured we would stay at a nice bed and breakfast and just enjoy the change of season we don't get here in Tampa. My husband comes up with the brilliant idea of going to the Dominican Republic. He works with some people from Santo Domingo and they told him how "beautiful" it was.
They lied.

We arrived at the airport in Santo Domingo and the taxi driver picked us up. Loaded our things into the van, and I use that term "van" loosely, and starts it up. Smokes starts coming out of the dashboard. That should have been a sign to get back on the plane and get the hell out of there.

We told the driver it was no problem and do whatever he needed to do to fix it or get another van. He cut two wires under the hood, started her up again and off we went.

Taxi rides there are an adventure, literally. The drivers there don't follow any rules of the road. Red light? Nah...they don't have to stop. Stop Sign? Nope, that sign means nothing to them. It's whoever has bigger conjones. And the person with the nice car always backs down as they don't want to risk an accident. There is no car insurance there either.

I have never quite seen so much poverty in person in my life. I have seen it on television and in National Geographic magazine but not in person. There were also homeless, malnourished dogs roaming around which broke my heart as an animal lover. They look at animals there as just animals. There is no affection for them. I saw few people with pets. Maybe five people and one was the hotel owner, who was German.

Trash was strewn all over the streets and sidewalks. It was like there was no trash pick up. I knew there had to have been...but I never saw a trash truck the whole time I was there. Never saw anyone picking up trash or cleaning up.

We attempted to go the beach one day. We took a bus ride there. That was an experience. We catch the bus at this bus station in "bad" part of town. I don't know what part of town wasn't bad...but this part of town was worse if it could get any worse. Trash was piled as high as I am tall. (5'1") There were beggars on the street, kids trying to shine my flips flops for money. Don't ask. Women carrying babies wearing nothing but diapers. The women and the babies were dirty. Their skin, and hair were filthy. But...we were looking forward to the beach...so we all piled into the air conditioned bus.

After a 30 minute drive, the bus stops and drops us off on the side of the highway. We had googled a very nice place to visit on the beach. It was a hotel with restaurant. There were beds you could lie on and food and drinks. The pictures were beautiful. Anyway, we get off the bus and start walking....and walking....All of a sudden a large group of people start running down this side street screaming and yelling. My husband who is fluent in Spanish said they were screaming that this lady had a bomb in her purse. The lady was screaming she did not have a bomb and to give her the purse back and to leave her alone. I am clinging to my husband like a two year old clings to it's mom. We have to walk past this group to get the "beach resort" we oh so craved.

After walking past the group and being chased by a few chickens, we made it to the resort. Along the way we saw more trash, more poverty, broken down abandoned cars and homes. It was lovely :)

We enter the resort and was immediately told that we would need to spend $100.00 American dollars on food and drinks before we could use the lounge chairs and beds on the beach. We hate and drank but it didn't hit the magic $100.00 so we walked along the beach for a minute. There was no where to lay a towel and just sit. No chairs to sit on. Just the lounge chairs and beds which cost $100.00.

The beach where the resort property was located was in good condition. But as soon as you walked past the property line, there was trash and broken down buildings on each side. It was like placing a nice hotel in the middle of the slums and pretending there was no slums around it.

We lasted there about an hour and left. Back to the bus stop to wait for another bus. This bus stop was a little better. It was just a gas station. No air-conditioning, though so it was cooler to be outside in the breeze and in the shade.

Once we were back at the other bus station, it was time to call for the taxi to take us back to the hotel. While there, I was approached by a man, trying to speak to me in Spanish and I had no idea what he was saying. I just said I didn't speak Spanish, (in Spanish) and figured he would leave me alone....well that didn't happen. He continued to bother me. My husband approached me ( he was inside calling for the taxi) and told him I was his wife and to leave me alone. He didn't seem to care that I was his wife and continued to try to speak to me. The couple that we were traveling with, the husband, approached also and said something to him in English. But with a tone that he realized, whatever it was, he was pissed. My husband told them him he had 1 second to get out of my face, so he turned around and left. I don't know if our friend's appearance is what made him realized they weren't dealing with just one but two Americans or what, but he left.

When I got back to the hotel, I was hot, tired, hungry and in tears.

The food there was really good and the historic section was beautiful. I only took pictures of mostly the good parts.

We lived in Spain in the 1980's for a few years and my husband had found this nice restaurant on the other side of town that specialized in authentic Spanish food. We took a taxi there and realized this side of town was where we should have stayed.

We enter the restaurant and the host immediately stopped us. We traveled with some good friends and neighbors who happen to be African American. Not that that matters, it doesn't to me, but to the Dominicans it did. They said something to us and my husband took over. He asked for a table and they looked at us like, "you are kidding, right? It was kind of a Joe Biden/Barbara West moment. Like they couldn't believe we wanted a table there. We were dressed very nice and were used to dining at restaurants like that in Tampa, Spain and elsewhere.

My husband then explained that in The Dominican Republic, if your skin is dark, you are most likely Haitian. And that means you are poor, lower class. The lighter your skin, the more respect you received. Everyone in the restaurant had very light skin and you could have dropped them in the middle of Madrid and they would have blended in perfectly. My husband also explained that white women, like myself, were looked upon as something the Dominican men strived for. Their goal to was to snag them a white woman. Not his white woman of course. The waiters and host were very gracious and treated us with respect, but we received looks of death from the other patrons.

After the second night there, my husband confesses that he is very disappointed in the trip and what we had experienced in just 2 days. The rest of us had not said a word to him as he had planned the whole trip and didn't want to hurt his feelings. But once he spoke up and said something, we all agreed....it sucked big donkey dicks.

After many more bad experiences....along the way....we did meet some great people whom I will actually miss. One was a young man who's father is a diplomat in Germany. He looked so much like someone you would see at my son's college, UT. My husband called him, "Mike from Boston" He was really Mikhail from Germanuy. He was here for 16 weeks to do an internship to become a diplomat. He wanted to do it all on is own without his father's help. He shared with us his experiences and perception of the country and we all had some laughs and good times. A new bar opened across the street from the hotel. My husband who talks to anyone and everyone....set up a party with food and drinks for us and the hotel staff for the last night we were there. There was good music, great sangria, compliments of my husband, delicious food and really nice company. It was the most fun I had during the whole trip. I am including some pictures from that night.

My husband and myself in the middle and our friends Brad and Cheryl on the ends.



The whole group of us.



Bar owner (far right), his brother and uncle.




And as a great end to the the trip from hell, my husband comes home, sick with what we thought was the flu...We spend 6 hours in the emergency room last night to find out it was only a virus. We were worried he had picked up something deadly while on vacation.
He will survive.

If anything good came out of this vacation it was that I looked forward to returning to the U.S. To my modest but lovely home. To my 9 year old couch that I won't complain about again. To my life here, which after seeing all that I saw there, is a really wonderful life.