The Miracle (Part II)

If Jocelyn had been aware of how anxious everyone was to meet her, she may have chosen to enter our world somewhat earlier.

She's here now though, and everything in the world is right.

Several months ago, probably around nine or so, my daughter called me to tell me the news -- "Dad... Manny and I are going to have a baby."
I was happy for her, and I tried to make that evident during our phone conversation. Though I tried my best to sound thrilled with her news, I know that she could detect a slight amount of insincerity. I'll admit once again, that I'm not really growing old gracefully, and the title of "grandfather, grandpa" or the like, initially didn't set very well with me.

But that was then, and now is now.

Almost two weeks overdue, little Jocelyn finally left behind her dark and warm fortress of solitude, and made her grand entrance into the world that we all know. The delivery had its complications, but the end result was perfect, wonderful, and extremely emotional for everyone involved.

I'm almost embarrassed to admit that I did have those feelings initially. Understand though, that I've always been somewhat vain, but I think being a grandfather now has helped me to grow emotionally. There, I said that word..."grandfather" and it actually makes me feel happy.

Thus ends the (written) story --The Miracle Part I and Part II, but it's really just the beginning.

I'm thinking that "grandpa" will be a frequent flyer to the state of California. For now though, I'll just pack my bags and hop a plane back to Florida. It's been a wonderful month Kristin and Manny. I enjoyed the visit --the San Diego Zoo, Gaslamp Quarter, the tour of the U.S.S. Midway, tour of Stone Brewery (what I remember of it- thanks Eric) and all of the walking we did to help Jocelyn along her journey.

Jocelyn Mae Laguna
Born 10/28/11 - 7:01 p.m.
8lbs 3oz
21" and Well Done.


~Safe Riding~

-The Chief

The Miracle (Part 1)

2100 hours... Okay, for those who can't convert, that's nine o'clock p.m.

That was our arrival time at Navy Medical last night, here in San Diego. My daughter, son in-law, and I reported here after what has seemed like an eternity of waiting for their daughter, and my first grandchild to arrive. We are twelve days overdue.

So, like any good father would do, I sit here and wait patiently. In my dark corner of the room I watch and listen intently as nurses come and go throughout the night. I'll say one thing about this place --the service to my daughter has been top notch! There have been complications, but nothing extreme or alarming, at least to me. However, I do realize that it's easy for a man to feel this way --it's not my body that's involved.

As is usual for me, anytime that I am placed in an environment where I have thinking time, I do in-fact think.  Things that are typically relevant to my immediate situation are what generally flood my mind.

Wasn't it just yesterday that my only daughter --the one whom will soon have the title of "mother"--sat patiently in my kitchen sink for her daily bath?  Is this the same little girl who would sing to me each morning, the "acorn" song? Where did the time go?

My next "On the Road" tale will surely be about the newest member of our family, but for now...I sit and wait. It has been a long night.

Hang in there Kristin. The pain will soon be gone and forgotten as you bask in an unbelievable feeling of love and joy for a new human being that you and Manny have brought into this world.

0500 hours and waiting patiently...


~Safe Riding~

-The Chief

And the Angels Sing

If man pays close enough attention to certain events in his life, he will realize that some of those events hold hidden lessons --life lessons.

It was about a year ago that I met Josephine. The day was a typical autumn day in New Jersey. After picking Patti up at the elementary school where she was teaching, she asked me if I would take her to see Josephine. I was somewhat familiar with Jo, having had a few conversations with Patti about her. Patti was her tutor.

Josephine was like any other six year old, and because I have always liked kids, we had a fun visit. Although the visit was short, it gave me time to learn a lot about this special young lady. An infectious smile coupled with bright and beautiful eyes, spoke volumes about this young and struggling for life, tot. Josephine, just a short time ago, had been diagnosed with a rare form of cancer.

That night, as Patti and I enjoyed some quiet time together, I remember speaking about our visit with Josephine. I thought about, and spoke of my own existence, and how I felt that I had no right at all to complain about any of my own ailments. Although not typically one to complain, I realized that I often mentioned the minor aches and pains I was experiencing, associated with my recently diagnosed arthritis. "I don't even know what pain is", I remember telling Patti, as I thought about the pain that little Josephine had surely endured during the past year or so.

A few months later, Patti and I attended a benefit dinner and auction which was being held for Josephine and her family --the profits of which were being utilized to help defer the tremendous medical costs which were continuously growing. Josephine was there and I felt fortunate that I had the chance once again to visit with her, although only for a brief period. The love and caring atmosphere that was felt at this event was somewhat overwhelming to me. The thoughts I had felt from my previous visit with her, were rekindled that evening.

Patti was Josephine's tutor.

The reality however, is that little Josephine was really Patti's tutor. There was a deeper relationship than Patti teaching Josephine those types of things that teachers teach children. Patti didn't tell me this, in-fact we haven't really even discussed my thinking here or the fact that I'm writing this story, but I will state again --Josephine was really Patti's tutor, for Josephine helped to teach Patti about life. I know this, because I was also a recipient of this life lesson. It was a hard hitting lesson Josephine, and as I silently weep --know that it was a good lesson for me.

Last night, Patti received the call. Little Josephine had succumbed to the cancer. An innocent and beautiful little child was now an angel. I have no better way to say it, as my thoughts during this writing are clouded.

May you truly rest now --free of pain-- in peace.

In memory of the littlest of angels - 

Josephine   2005 - 2011

My Little World

I'm just not ready, and that's that. No one may understand, but the fact is --I like it here in my warm and comfortable fortress of dark security. I'm sure that life on the outside is probably okay, but for now I'll just remain here a little longer, and learn and grow in the comfort of my surroundings.

The muffled sounds outside are interesting to me. I don't quite understand the voices but they seem to be fairly constant, although there is a short break from the sounds every so often, and the silence seems to be on a schedule. There also seems to be a lot of activity, a certain type of movement somewhat regularly. Sometimes the movement I speak of tends to make me feel like I'm falling --head first, but overall I feel secure.

Wait, there's that strange feeling again --as if something very cold is trying to permeate my fortress. Usually when I get this sensation of  cold (kind of like ice cream cold, although I'm not really sure what that is) but not uncomfortable change in my secure environment, the feeling lasts for just a short time. Gradually, the warm and gentle surroundings that I am so used to, return and I am once again at peace. I love my environment as I grow each day.

I have been here for a very long time, although I don't yet really understand time --in-fact, I don't really understand too much at this point in my life. I am alive however and I have many thoughts. Thoughts are forming each day but for now, I'll just stay here and enjoy this warm and comfortable fortress that I have grown to love.

There will be plenty of time to learn about life, and plenty of time to learn about the world. These are all of the things that everyone else knows about except me.

I am alive you see, but I haven't yet been born into your world. I am on the way however, so relax and enjoy each day until I decide to make my grand entrance into our world.

*Relayed to me from my soon to be born granddaughter, Jocelyn.


~Safe Riding~

-The Chief

The Road Less Traveled

I think thoughts. I think about things that everyone else thinks about but I feel unfulfilled unless I write about them.

I'm now approaching a milestone with my newest life --a life of Florida living. It's hard to believe that it has been almost one year since I packed up my belongings and headed south from the Empire State. I've learned a lot about Florida in just this one year and I want to share some of my thoughts. Some good, some not so good.

First and probably the most joyous of reasons that I chose Florida to be my new stomping grounds was weather based. The weather here, simply stated is marvelous. Of course, I realize at this point in my life that no matter where you go, people --as a general rule, aren't happy unless they're complaining about something. So as much as I like the climate here and love the heat, I hear pretty much daily that "it's too hot". Excuse me sir, "why the hell did you move to Florida if you don't like heat?"

The people here are people. I've made a recent decision to stay away from the local news on television. In a nutshell, it's just plain scary. I thought that New York harbored some of the weirdest thugs and back-woods rednecks in the land. I was wrong... so wrong.

I won't mention motorists in the state of Florida. Uh, I guess I just did. Truthfully however, it doesn't matter what state you travel or reside in --bad drivers outweigh good drivers at least ten to one. Most of them were born in New Jersey and then apparently moved to all points around the nation. The only difference is that those whom relocated to Florida are also legally blind. End of story.

Finally, I'll discuss the choice I made last year as far as the exact area of Florida I chose to reside in. In-fact, there's a previous "On the Road" story about it. 

The Villages are located in north central Florida and are considered the optimum of retirement communities -- a sort of Utopia if you will. There are probably more golf carts here than automobiles. There are also more older folks than I've ever seen in my entire life. Don't get me wrong, I don't dislike the older generation. I'm heading in that direction as we speak. It's entirely possible that I'm having a fairly hard time accepting the fact that I'm aging, and not gracefully.

The Villages are unique.  A couple of weeks ago, I took a walk around my neighborhood. It was around 9:00 p.m. and a gorgeous evening. Within minutes of my walk, I felt like Rod Serling had come back to life and was writing another Twilight Zone episode about a ghost town. This place was eerily dead. I mean, after all... it was early evening and there was absolutely no sign of life --house after house after dark and quiet house. I wondered, has everyone retired for the evening already, or is everyone out partying in the town square. My guess is the latter of the two because one thing I have discovered that is certain --Village residents tend to live like there is no tomorrow.

The Villages boasts many great reasons to live here  --the convenience of all types of stores and restaurants, live entertainment nightly and probably most importantly, inexpensive beer. I was told prior to my move here, that the Villages are considered the adult Disney World. This is an accurate description.

I was wise to move into a rental home first, to get an overall view of the area prior to purchasing a home in Florida. I think another year of renting will complete my investigation. My second year however will be spent looking at the Villages from the outside, rather than from within --as I head up the road just a piece.

"Hello, UHaul... I need to rent a truck."

~Safe Riding~

-The Chief