Reflections: My 50th Class Reunion ~ Pueblo East High School Class of '63

My inner processor has been on overload this week.

Sometimes I wish I could be like my husband and just attend an event and then be done with it.

That would not be me.

I must process the entire event to make full meaning of it.

Fifty years ago, I graduated from high school.

Just writing those words causes me great disbelief.

How can that be?

Where did the time go?

I will be attending two high school reunions this year because I moved just prior to my senior year.

Pueblo East High School in Pueblo, Colorado was my high school home
 for grades nine through eleven.

It was here where I met the high school sweetheart whom I would marry thirty years after high school.

The girlfriends from this class are among my dearest and closest friends.

I have written often about this wonderful group of women.  

We meet every three months for lunch, so I am well versed on the lives of these girlfriends who live nearby, but I had not seen many from this class for at least 50 years.

I was instructed by my dear friend, Donna to take good notes,

Donna & Sally 2010

so, Donna, here you go...

First of all, I missed you.  

I wish you could have been at the reunion with us.

I loved your response to the question I posed on whether or not you would be attending.  

You said,

Pity the girl that leaves the party early.
That certainly may have been true in high school, but

I found that all of us were so happy to see each other again that the pettiness that may have been there in high school seemed to melt away.  

I think you would have been happy to know that the reunion was a wonderful success that left us all basking in the glow of friendship.  We truly missed all who were unable to attend. 

Recaps:

Friday Night

I'm afraid, I didn't take many photos. I was having too good of a time just catching up with all of my classmates to take a photo.  Our first night of the reunion, we all gathered on the patio of Gray's Coors Tavern , home of the famous Pueblo slopper. (click on the link to read about the slopper)  Judiciously, I did not eat a slopper.  I did overhear a lot of conversations regarding those who chose to eat a slopper.  "I hope I don't have a gall bladder attack tonight."  I guess our age was showing when it came to food choices.  

A Pueblo Slopper
from
Gray's Coors Tavern

It was a hot Friday night in Pueblo.  The town was hopping.  There was a very big football game in town.  Central and Centennial were playing for the Bell.  Many were stopping by Coors on their way to the game for a quick hamburger.  Traffic was heavy.  It was hard to find a parking place.  Some things never change.  Friday night football games between the town rivals still create a sense of excitement.  Already, as we walked towards the reunion, I felt the years begin to fall away.  I was off to see my high school buddies.  

As soon as I walked onto the patio to register, I was asked to remove my sunglasses so those at the registration table could see who I was.  "The eyes don't change," I was told.  "You won't be recognized if we can't see your eyes."  True.  I found us all looking deeply into each others' eyes and seeing the girl or guy from long ago.  Also, some of us still had good enough eyesight to read the large letter name tags from a distance.  That helped too!  

My husband had thought he might skip out of the reunion early, go to the football game, and then return later to pick me up.  It was my reunion after all.  I sent him over to a table where other spouses were sitting and went off to connect with my friends.  Soon, I saw he was drawing his own crowd.  The underclassmen went over to see a favorite upperclassman, my hubby Jim.  He had as good a time as I did.  

Time after time, I found myself being spun around by a guy or gal I had not seen in 50 years.  "Sally French.  How long has it been?"  Someone asked me where a certain guy was.  I answered with, "He's that one over there that looks like an old Fonzie."  I was told to remove the adjective "old" from my description.  "Where is so and so?" was another often asked question.  "What, she has short gray hair now???"  "Yes, don't we all?"  

The evening was way too short.  I left thinking to myself, "We had the nicest group of people in the whole world in our class."  Truly I just could not get enough time with these people.  They were all so nice!

Saturday Recap

Many spent Saturday morning and early afternoon touring the old hometown.  I met up with my dear friends Dove and Eileen and Dove's husband David who heading toward the old Denver and Rio Grande Railroad Depot.  There were joined by Dennis, former class president, who was here from out of state.  He and I discovered our mutual history:  our father's both worked for the railroad at the same time.  He had even worked at the depot in as a baggage handler during his years in high school.  

Eileen, Dove, Dennis, Sally

Oh the memories this old depot held for me.  It was great sharing stories with my friends of their memories of the building.  We sat on an old railroad station bench for our photo.  We then posed in front of the building for another photo.  

Sally, Dove, David, Eileen

Somehow, Dennis and I started discussing the work of William Stegner.  I imagine it began when I told of recently reading Angle of Repose.  From there, we then began to discuss what I am currently reading, Crossing to Safety.  I could not help but draw parallels from that book to the weekend.

Saturday Night Recap

"The Trajectory of Our Lives"

Again, I didn't end up taking many photos on Saturday night.  (Dear Blogging Friends, aren't you glad?) I was having too good of a time chatting and catching up with friends to take photos.  

Here are a few:

Our awesome leader:  Carol and husband Andy worked tirelessly to keep all reunion committee members on task.  The reunion was a huge success.  Thanks, Carol.

Elaine and Marilyn worked so hard on the planning.

Elaine & Marilyn

Iris put together a phenomenal "year book."

Iris & Ginger
Loyal Eagles

These two can still light up a room with a smile.

Sharon & Kathy

The table decorations were made by Carol D.

I think she would be voted homecoming queen again if a vote would have been taken.

Carol D. and Cliff J.

Val brought her cheerleading outfit.

It was made of wool.

The waist was tiny.

It had been lovingly preserved.

Val is still one of our great cheerleaders!  I can always count on her for the best hugs.

She is always in your corner cheering you on.

Love you, Val.

Val & Sally

Kathy, pretty in pink, or any other color, handled all the finances for the reunion.

What a job!

Here she is with Frank, Ray, and Ray's wife.

What wonderful people these four are.

Kathy, Frank, Ray, and Ray's wife

Karen, Val, and Dennis caught up on the past 50 years.

Karen, Val, & Dennis

Annette says that Jim taught her to drive.
She says she is a good driver and has him to thank for that skill.

Annette & Jim

I love these ladies!

Here is a photo of just a few of the girls who mean the world to me.

The EHS Girls of '63

It was a treat to spend time with the guys from the class also.

After the reunion, I could not help but think what a wonderful group of men this photo represents.

I am proud to know each these men.

The EHS Guys of '63

Sunday Recap

On Sunday morning, the group gathered at the high school to tour the school, and to enjoy a continental breakfast.  Jim and I attend the breakfast and then left for home.  I understand the tour of the school was great fun and brought back many happy memories for all who took the tour.

Reflections

I was an interloper of sorts to this group.  I did not go to grade school and junior high with these 'kids.'  I moved to Pueblo and joined this class in November of my freshman year.  East High School was a brand new school.  It had been built to handle the great influx of baby boomers who had reached high school age.  In 1959, Pueblo, Colorado was larger than Colorado Springs, my hometown where I had attended grades K - 8.  I joined this convocation of Eagles when they were taking its first year of flight. It was great fun to be a part of a brand new school creating new traditions.

I was welcomed into this group immediately.  We had such good times together.  There were:  sock hops, bon fires, rousing football and basketball games, proms, homecoming parades, and exciting pep assemblies.  We drug Main after games on Friday and Saturday nights.  We ate the best French fries after these games.  We had slumber parties where we talked and laughed all night long.  I loved my times at East.  And then, my senior year my father was transferred to another town and I had to leave the nest and go to another school.  I did not graduate with these classmates.  No one seems to mind.  I am still one of them.

Pueblo, Colorado is a steel town.  It is a blue collar town.  It is a town of immigrants.  It is town that has gone through hard times.  It is a town where people don't forget their roots.  Life is centered around family, school, and church.  Ethnic and cultural foods and traditions, religious affiliation, and familial ties are greatly honored.  Perhaps that is why these people are such nice people.  I just kept hearing from everyone at the reunion that we sure had a nice group of people in our class.  We seemed to just enjoy being together again.  

I found it interesting that we didn't seem to need to listen to or dance to the old tunes from the '60's like we did at other reunions.  I think this reunion was not so much about a look backward where we were trying to recapture those days of our youth that had vanished.  This reunion was more about reflecting on how short life is, and about how important the people in our lives are.  

When the former class president spoke to the class, he said he wondered if any of us ever even imagined this day that would occur fifty years later.  I'm sure I did not.  I thought we would be forever young and idealistic.  Fifty years ago we had no idea how much the world and our lives would change. The 60's were in their infancy.  Martin Luther King had not had his March on Washington when we graduated.  The Viet Nam War was just beginning.  President Kennedy had visited Pueblo in the summer just before our senior year.  We could not imagine that he would be assassinated before 1963 was over.  Our dreams for the future were just as hopeful as those our parents had instilled in us, the generation that was born just after World War II.  We were all born just as the war was ending.

As I have reflected over this reunion, I find it hard to sum up my emotions.  Mostly, I came away with a sense of gratitude for a time, a place, and for the people who were there with me in that time and place.  Dennis, our class president, spoke of the trajectory of our lives in his remarks.  Certainly, we had all been launched from this same Eagle nest with great dreams to soar through the future.  Now, fifty years later, to me, and I think to others, it did not seem to matter to what heights we either soared or did not soar.  It only seemed to matter that we were able to be together again.  The flock had made it safely back to our beginnings.  

The words of Terry Tempest Williams in her introduction for one of the editions of William Stegner's Crossing to Safety   sum up the thoughts I have been processing about attending this milestone:

Stegner shows us again and again that it is love and friendship, the sanctity and celebration of our relationships that not only support a good life, but create one.

As I grow older,

I value these primary relationships and experiences more than I ever could have imagined 

when I was younger.

Thank you, 

East High Class of '63

for your

love,

support,

and friendships.

I can't imagine what my life would be like without you.

Your laughter echoes in my ears.

The tears you have shed as you have shared your trials and triumphs with me are stored in my heart.

You have made my life rich and full.

You are all Golden Treasures!

Breath...

Thoughts about:

breath

breTH

noun

the air taken into or expelled from the lungs

The Book of Genesis tells us:

- then the LORD God formed the man of the dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, ant the man became a living creature. ~ Genesis 2:7

Idioms or cliches about breath:

out of breath

time to catch one's breath

under one's breath

breath of fresh air

catch one's breath

Don't hold your breath!

gasp for breath

I don't have time to catch my breath.

waste one's breath

with bated breath

take your breath away

How many times have we all used these idioms?

I was taught how to breathe during childbirth.

I was taught how to breathe when I learned to do Pilates.

I had the great blessing to watch each of my five children take the first breath of life.

I held my father's hand during his last days and would literally tell him,

"breathe in"

"breathe out"

in an attempt to help ease his breathing as he struggled through the effects of congestive heart failure.

When I have an asthma attack,

I use my flow meter as an aid to understand how my breathing is doing.

At high altitudes, as I gasp for breath, I use my finger oximeter to check my O2 saturation levels.

My therapist cautioned me about 

holding my breath.

She said that she thinks that when I get worried and anxious and stressed,

I am doing great harm to my body when I don't breathe deeply and practice stress releasing breathing.

She said that she thinks I go around "holding my breath" too often.

She means I am not relaxed and taking life as it comes.

I am uptight.

I'm not breathing deeply.

I am stressed.

She is right.

My GI doctor told me that when the body is not breathing easily in deep sleep at night,

it is out of balance.

When adrenaline is pumped up, one's body goes into 

fight or flight response.

When one sleeps deeply and well, one's body is able to 

rest and digest.

These two bodily responses to life need to be in balance.

Breath gives life.

I've been thinking about breathing a lot lately.

Interestingly, this past week, I had my breath collected.

I know, that sounds crazy,

but really I did.

I spent three hours at National Jewish Heath

where a nurse had me blow into a balloon type object so my breath could be 

collected and analyzed.

Why?

This test is called the hydrogen breath test. (click to read about the test.)

It is used to diagnose several gastrointestinal conditions.

I should have the results on Friday.

And then, today, for the first time since the first of 2013,

I let out a huge sigh of relief.

It has been a rough year for my family.

There have been a few bumps in the road.

Two of my children have been searching for jobs.

Both have always worked since they were sixteen years old.

Both have been highly successful.

This year there were reversals in employment for both.

Job searches are trying, difficult, discouraging, and disheartening.

I have prayed daily for the Lord's provision for these two and for their families.

The Lord has provided every single day with what was needed for their needs.

Then, two weeks ago, one was offered a job opportunity where the salary was the same as the last wonderful job.  Opportunities for growth and advancement are also there.

Today,  the other one also got a wonderful job offer with the same salary and benefits as the last great job.  Opportunities for growth and advancement are also there.

I am breathing again!

I am doing the happy dance.

I am so relieved.

I am so thankful.

Praise the Lord!

Many prayers have been answered.

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Time in The Classroom ~ Becoming a Teacher

Missing the classroom begins when the shelves are stocked with new school supplies.

The beginning of any new school year always causes me to be a bit nostalgic.

I found myself in the school supply aisle at the store the other day.

Who can resist looking at those new notebooks,

and pens,

and pencils?

I know I can't.

I love this time of the year when the shelves are stocked with all those new school supplies.

This year,

I didn't buy a new notebook.

I didn't even buy a new pen.  

I don't need a new pen since I bought my favorite pen of all time:

the wonderful Bee Blossom Seven Year Pen.

(I do love this pen.  It is the best pen I've ever had. It might not last seven years, but writing with it is pure joy.)  

Ok, maybe that last statement is a bit over the top, but some of us really love our pens and pencils.

Missing the Classroom

Maybe, just maybe, it was my love of pens and pencils, and of books that set my destiny in motion.

As far back as I can remember, I wanted to teach.

I decided I wanted to become a teacher in kindergarten.

I loved school.

I loved my teacher.

I loved the classroom.

No wonder, I get a bit of a lost feeling when the school year starts without me.

My journey to becoming a teacher was a long one.  It took me longer than I ever expected to actually become a teacher.  In high school, I'm not sure I had my pathway mapped out for the future the way I wish I would have.  I knew for sure that I wanted to teach.  I also knew that would mean I would need to go to college.  No one in my immediate family had ever graduated from college when I was in high school.  My father had attended Colorado College in Colorado Springs, but he had dropped out just short of finishing his degree.  I think he only needed about seven credit hours to finish.  Somehow, the financial concerns during the Depression Era, and marriage, must have gotten in the way, and he never finished. 

My father was a man who championed education and placed great value on reading and writing.  He was always reading.  He wrote well.  He was a wonderful story-teller.  He encouraged great discussions at the dinner table, and he encouraged us to read and to think.  He also was realistic when it came to helping me select the courses I should take in high school.  He thought I was foolish to take Latin instead of Spanish.  I think we was pretty much right on that.  Latin always helped me with my understanding of vocabulary and grammar, but I should have also taken Spanish.  I regret that I did not.  He also insisted that I take typing.  He said that I would need that skill to get a job.  He was right on that advice.  He thought it was fine to take college prep English, but he also knew that I really needed help in the mathematics department.  He tried to help me all he could as I suffered through high school algebra.

When I graduated from high school, I was offered scholastic scholarships to two different state colleges.  I insisted that I wanted to attend what was then called Colorado State College in Greeley, Colorado.  It was the "teacher's college."  And so, on a September day fifty years ago, I went off to college on the first leg of a journey that would take more years than I ever imagined to becoming a teacher.  (This photo of me, decked out in my new going off to college outfit,  was taken one late summer afternoon all those many years ago by my high school boy friend.  Yes, he is now my husband.  And yes, I did wear this outfit, right down to shoes and the purse, on my first day as a college co-ed.)

Off to College

My head is full of many happy memories of my college days.  I lived in a college dorm, worked in the college dining hall, joined a sorority, Sigma Kappa, and met many wonderful friends.  One of those friends is still one of my dearest friends.  I am so grateful I had these opportunities and experiences.  Unfortunately, after the first semester of my junior year, I left college.  

I thought I would get back to school to finish my degree, but before long, I met a young man at work.  Six months later, I married this young man.  He and I spent nearly sixteen years together as husband and wife before we divorced.  During those years when we were married, he would finish his college degree, earn a masters degree, and earn a living as a high school teacher.  We also have five children together.  Those years, short on money and time, I spent my days taking care of my children and home. Going back to school to finish what I had started years before was only a dream that I knew would have to wait until later.  

After my divorce, I found my self in the unenviable position of being a single mom without a job or a college education.  During this time, in the Summer of 1981, I went to a conference where I was inspired to follow my dream to get that long desired college diploma.  That night when I returned home, I wrote the following words in my journal:

August 6, 1981

"The time frame in which we attain our goals may be altered but never lessens our inner need to fulfill them."  These words were spoken tonight at the conference for women by Dr. Lindquist at Weber State College.  My deep inner needs include a need to write seriously, to finish college, and to teach.  With the Lord's help, I do hope to fulfill these goals in the timeframe in which I have to work.

In reality, meeting such goals right after my divorce seemed like a dream that would never happen.  I had no money.  I didn't have a job.  I hadn't worked in years.  I didn't have any marketable job skills, except, I could type.  (Thanks to my father's instance, I could do that.)  

In time, I found a job as a secretary for a school district in Colorado Springs where I had relocated from Utah.  My salary was low.  I was a single mom.  I need to work.  I could not take off the time to go to college.  Even if I did finish my college coursework to teach, I could not take the time off to do observations of classrooms and student teaching.  

So, I went a different route.  After a few years, I went back to college at night to work on a BS degree in Business Administration.  Finally, in 1987, twenty-five years after I had begun work on my first year in college, I earned that long sought for college degree.  

Earning a BS in Business Administration
1987

I was very proud of what I had accomplished in that moment, but I still didn't have a teaching certificate.  I had not let go of that dream yet, but again,  it seemed rather bleak that I would ever actually turn this dream into reality. 

Fast forward to 1992.  I married my high school sweetheart during that year.  I also began working as an accounting assistant doing bookkeeping for the school district in Pueblo.  About a year later, the carpel tunnel syndrome  and cubital tunnel syndrome problems I had ignored for years finally caused me seek treatment.  My surgeon said I could not work during the time I was recuperating from surgery, and in fact, told me to expect to be on workman's comp for at least a year and a half.  He also told me he would never release me to go back to doing the kind of work I had been doing for the past ten years.  In the meantime, I lost my job and my benefits.

Looking back, this turn of events was a God send.  My doctor would not release me from going back to work, but he didn't say I couldn't go to school.  So, in January of 1994, just a few weeks after surgery to release my trapped ulnar nerve from the cubital tunnel on my right arm, I began college again.  Julie, my youngest daughter was a college freshman at the same University.  She proudly wrote my name in my books for me since I could not yet write with my right hand.  Equipped with a tape recorder, I began the coursework that would lead me towards my long sought goals. 

A year and a half later, after taking all those English courses that I loved, and after a wonderful trip to England to study Theater in London, and after student teaching on my 50th birthday, I finally graduated summa cum laude with a BA in English and a secondary teaching certificate in English/Language Arts. I thought I was pretty old, to be entering the teaching profession, but as I look at a photo from that time, I marvel at how young I was!

Sally & one of her favorite professors
Dr. M. Barber
Oxford, England
1994

I guess the rest is history.  I did land a teaching job after graduation.  I began my teaching career by teaching seventh grade English in the toughest middle school in the school district.  I was told not to smile before Thanksgiving because the kids would eat me alive if I did.  I don't know when I smiled; all I know is that I never cried.  That year deserves a book.  I will tell you about it in another post.  Just know, that I was hooked on teaching, even though my first year was worse than rough.  

I don't know that I have ever gotten the bug to teach out of my system even though I retired from teaching at the University level seven years ago.  I miss those times in the classroom.

To Be Continued...

The Vicissitudes of Life Encapsulated in One Day

At times during the day, I've been at loose ends.

I flitted from one attention grabber to another.

I couldn't settle on one activity because another would call my name.

I was distracted.

At one moment, I have been sad, crying, and in mourning.

During the next, I would find myself rejoicing over the beauty of the day.

I couldn't settle on reading a book.

Couldn't seem to pick up my journal and begin to write even as thoughts tumbled through my mind.

I don't want to eat dinner,

yet I am searching for a snack.

I don't want to talk to anyone,

even as I long for a good conversation.

I want to be alone.

No, I really think I want companionship.

I have many tasks that need to be completed.

My desk if piled high with papers and books to be sorted through.

I don't think I even made my bed today.

Did I?

I don't know.  

Does it matter?

It is nearly time to go to bed again.

I've been tired,

but heaven knows I could never settle down to go to sleep.

Do you ever have days like that?

Today, 8.08 began at 8:08 A.M.

when I finally awakened enough to look at the clock.

Damn digital clocks.

Even they send reminders of Julie.

Julie,

as the story goes,

once said her ideal man was BOB.  

Digital watches were the new "in" thing when she was in high school.

8:08, meaning BOB, became a symbol of Julie's life.

Memories of her began to flood my mind.

I wasn't alone.

Many of us were reminded of her today.

In my memory

I vividly saw her twirling her hair around her slender fingers.

I saw her showing the grandchildren how to hula hoop.

I've been missing her so much lately.

I've needed her humor, her silliness, her kindness, her take on life that could be wise.

Julie, Amy, and Mom

I grieved because I can't be her to her sister Amy.

I know Amy needs her in her life so much at this time.

I called Amy to tell her that I wish I could be her sister to her,

but of course, I can't be.

Only Julie could be Julie to Amy.

Only, Julie could be Julie to any of us.

She was our family lynchpin.

She is gone.

What will hold us all together?

Grief no longer incapacitates me.

Or does it?

I went on with my day.

I had lunch with my sister.

I made tea for my husband and served him tea and cake on the porch.

This evening,

the two of us,

my dear husband and I,

took a walk in the neighborhood.

The air was crisp and cool, reminding us of an early fall day in the mountains.

We followed a beautiful buck in velvet who was just ten feet ahead of us on the path.

Peace and beauty filled my soul.

It was a good reminder that:

Life is full of vicissitudes.

And yes, there are days when those vicissitudes are encapsulated all in one day.

Thankfully, at the end of this day, I could agree with a quote from Jerry Sittser's book on grief.

I had experienced the ups and downs that come when one continues to grieve.

I could also honestly say, 

I was struck by how wonderful ordinary life is.

Simply being alive became holy to me.

~ Jerry Sittser

A Grace Disguised:   How the Soul Grows Through Loss

Our Getaway - Part Two

Just as June was ending, my husband and I had a getaway prior to his back surgery.  I wrote about part of that getaway in "Our Getaway - Part One." (Click to read that posting.)  Now, as we are beginning August, this posting I am finally writing is old news, but I did want to share with you some of the places where we traveled on our getaway.

Just looking at the photos I took has actually caused me to long for another getaway.  In the meantime, I will take some refreshment and joy by remembering the beauty we saw as we traveled to some beautiful parts of Colorado.

The Fourth of July is never my favorite time to be on the road.  In fact, I prefer to stay home that weekend or get to my destination before the holiday begins.  Unfortunately, this year, our decision to take a small road trip during the holiday was a last minute decision I insisted on before we faced my husband's surgery.

Thankfully, we found great accommodations in Glenwood Springs despite it being a holiday weekend.  We did not plan on spending time in the pool during the heat of the day on the Fourth of July, and we didn't want to go in and out of tourist shops in town.  Jim wanted to go over to a small town near Glenwood Springs called Carbondale, Colorado because he found that was where the nearest dog park was located.  It had been a long time since I had been to Carbondale, so I was up for the 13 mile drive to find a dog park.

We had even thought of driving on into Aspen for the day.  Aspen is only about an hour from Glenwood and just about an additional 30 miles from Carbondale.  While the prospects of going to Aspen for the day were intriguing, I didn't really want to be limited to where we could go while we were there because we had the dog with us.  So, as we drove towards Carbondale, I pulled out the map and suggested we go to Marble, Colorado.  Jim immediately and incredulously responded with, "No, are you kidding?"  You see there is a story behind this response.  One that will take another blog post.  It involves a wild ride I once wanted to take him on over Schofield Pass.  Google Schofield Pass images for a reason why he did not want to go to Marble with me.  I guess he doesn't trust me.  I assured him that I had a different route to Marble in mind for this trip, so he agreed to take my word for it that he would like my plan.

I'd forgotten how beautiful the drive between Glenwood and Carbondale was.  As Mt. Sopris came into view, I asked him to pull over so I could photograph this beautiful mountain.  As you can see, my selection of spots in which to take a photo was not the best, note the telephone wires, but you get the idea of how beautiful the area is.

As we pulled into Carbondale, we headed towards the dog park.  Boston was ready for a nice run and a refreshing drink of water.  

While Boston romped and ran, I walked down towards the entrance to the park to a community garden that had caught my eye on my way into the dog park. I loved the sign that the gardeners had created.

Can you imagine the joy that gardeners in this spot enjoy?  What a view!  The neighborhood around the garden and the dog park was lush with beautiful yards and flowers because of ditch water that ran through the area.  

After Boston was duly exercised and watered, we took CO 133-S to Redstone, Colorado.    

Once we got into town, which is more like a village than a town, we wished we'd planned our trip better.  (This is the story of our lives!)  Our timing was slightly off.  We headed down Main Street just after the Fourth of July Parade ended.  In fact, some folks might have thought we were part of the parade!  This town would be the perfect place to watch the perfect small town America Fourth of July Parade.  Every tricycle, wagon, child, and dog seemed to be decked out in red, white, and blue.  The town is tiny, so the street is closely bordered by mining era houses that are decorated for the holiday.  Being a mountain town, the flowers were stunning in their profusion and rich hues.  I just could not bring myself to stick my head out of the window of the car to take photos.  Trust me; it was a magical, patriotic place on this day.

We were starving, so we found a place to eat that was dog friendly.

We will return to Redstone, and next time we will plan our trip better.  We hope to catch a tour of the castle there and even perhaps spend the night at the Redstone Inn.  Both of these things have been on 

my bucket list for quite some time.

Just outside of town, one find the interesting and historical coke ovens that were built by the Colorado Fuel and Iron and the coal "coked" by these ovens was transferred by the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad.  Both the CF&I and the D&RGRR figure largely in my personal family history, so I am always fascinated by the history of such places as the coke ovens near Redstone.

After taking a short time to photograph the coke ovens, we needed to go to a place I had been longing to re-visit for a long time:  Marble, Colorado.

I had not been to Marble since my girlhood days.  I don't even remember when I last went there on one of my father's fascinating road trips through Colorado.  If only I had a recorded oral history of his voice as he told us about these places in Colorado.  He had such knowledge of these places, and he told the story of each place in such an interesting way.  I used to love these trips with him.  Now, all those stories are lost somewhere in the recesses of my memory, but I remembered the town, and thankfully, it had not really changed.  It is still a place off the beaten path that is somewhat undiscovered.  It is hard to read the sign, but it states that the population is 85 and the elevation is over 7,000 feet.

Just as I remembered, marble is everywhere.  It almost litters the ground, if marble could litter.  

Naturally, many sculptors live in this area.

 This is a rock solid mail box holder!

The sizes and shapes of the white marble against the blue of the mountains and the green of trees and grasses is a delight to the eye.

As we drove through town, it was hard to believe that in the rest of America crowds where thronging and celebrating.  This was the view that welcomed us as we drove toward a small church in the town.

Here is the perfect setting for a small family wedding the mountains, or for a peaceful Sunday morning service.

We parked the car near the church, and I wandered to side yard.  I found this beautiful sculpture next to the church.

 I could not help but lift my eyes towards the heavens and think of my darling daughter Julie as I sat in this peaceful place surrounded by beauty and peace.  I thought of her in the presence of real angels and rejoiced that she was in a place of peace.

My reflection was soon interrupted by a visitor.

Boston joined me on a marble bench and brought a big smile to my face and gratitude to my heart for this dear canine companion.  It seemed that this was the perfect ending to a perfect day.  Soon, the three of us, Jim, Boston, and I, headed towards Glenwood Springs where Jim and I would enjoy a great evening soak in the hot springs.  

The Healing Is Coming Along Nicely

Today, marked a milestone for my husband as he continues to heal.  He walked to the top of the hill near our house and back home again.  A forty-five minute walk in the neighborhood was quite an accomplishment for him as his back surgery was just twelve days ago.  As we began the walk, he said his legs felt weak, but he had no pain.  By the time we finished the walk, he said he felt stronger than he had when we first started out.  This evening, we walked around our block twice.  I continue to marvel at how well he is doing.  We had a full day of having the car serviced and dinner out.  He said today he felt the best he has in a very long time.  This is excellent news!

It is so good to have my man back at my side for our daily walks.  Even better, he is no longer suffering and in pain when he walks.  For the most part, our roles have reversed somewhat.  I now walk the dog, and he carries the poop bag.  (Someone has to do it.)   I told Boston there would be a new sheriff in town just before "The Boss" had his surgery.  "The Boss," my name to Boston for his master, is much more lenient when it comes to discipline where the "The Boy" or Boston is concerned.  I think Jim feels a bit guilty that the dog can't run free after all the bunnies that populate the neighborhood, so he will allow Boston to charge after a bunny until he comes to the end of his leash.  A few times, I've been afraid the dog would topple Jim over as he charges off.

I, on the other hand, like a well disciplined dog as a walking companion.  So, the task of getting this dog to heel in a highly distractible environment has been one I have been working on these few weeks.  I am training Boston, rather late in his life, to stay by my side while walking without thinking he is free to run as if he were at the dog park.  I am using a gentle leader collar and treats to accomplish my training goals.  The treats always work.  He is coming along nicely in his training, but he hates the gentle leader.  I have always enjoyed walking my dogs, but Boston has always been a challenge for me, so while Jim's back is healing, Boston and I are learning to walk together.

The first few days after surgery are never great, and Jim had a rough couple of days after surgery.  In the long run though, we are amazed at how quickly he has recovered from back surgery.  That being said, I hope he never ever has to have another surgery such as this again.  It is just too hard on the body.  It is also hard on the caretaker.  We have made it through thus far and are looking forward to many more days of good health ahead of us.

On this past Saturday, Jim was taken to lunch by his dinner crew.  Three former colleagues of his drove up from Pueblo to take him to lunch.  These guys, all retired teachers from the school where Jim was principal, have met for dinner once a month for the past four or five years.  It was great for Jim to have them come to his new stomping grounds to take him out.  Thankfully, I thought to grab my phone and take a photo of these four fine educators gathered on our back deck. They  sometimes laugh and call themselves ROMEOS or Retired Old Men Eating Out.  One thing is for sure, when they get together, the conversation is rich with laughter and discussion of all types of subjects.  They were good medicine for Jim.

All in all, the summer has not been a bad one.  We are both healing and becoming more healthy.  We enjoy our new home and the beautiful setting in which we live.  We love the climate where we live.  In the mornings and evenings, we feel the cool mountain breezes as we walk or sit on the deck and listen to rustling aspen leaves on the trees that give us beautiful shade and privacy.  The last week has been especially cool and lovely as we have had just enough rain in our part of town to really green up the lawn and cool off the evenings.  Our a/c bills are much lower than they were in Pueblo, and so are our water bills.  We are happy for that.  We look forward to August and are not ready to see this summer come to an end.

I am doing much, much better health wise.  I am now taking pancreatic enzymes with every meal.  I no longer have pain.  The enzymes seem to be working.  I am so thankful for that.  Thankfully, I have good insurance.  I say that with true gratitude.  I can't imagine what my bills would be like these past few months of constant medical tests and doctor visits without good insurance.  The medicine I am on would have cost over $1400 without insurance.  I am only talking about my medical bills.  Jim's medical bills are not doubt astronomical also.  Again, thank heavens for our good supplemental insurance plans.  I know this is a hot topic these days and don't wish to create a political discussion with these statements.  I am just grateful that we are able to secure good medical plans for ourselves during our retirement years.  I realize that many in our age group are not able to do so.

One last word:  Thank you blogging friends, and all my other friends also, for all of your well wishes as Jim and I have faced health challenges this past few months.  Your words of support and concern have meant more than you know.  Forgive me for not reading your blogs as faithfully as I would like.  Hopefully, life will slow down soon, and we will all be back to normal.

My Bionic Man

Thanks to the advancements in modern medicine, my husband now has the spine of a 26 year old.  In other words, he no longer has vertebrae that are rubbing bone on bone and cutting off the nerves that go to his legs.  Thanks to two gifted neurosurgeons, he is no longer feeling any pain in his lower back or his legs, and he is just three days post surgery.  Tonight, as the two of us walked around the halls of the hospital, I was amazed at how well he was walking.  He did not complain of pain, and he was standing more upright than I have seen him stand in a very long time.

Surgery day began very early.  I had to have him at the hospital at 5:30 a.m.  He kept insisting he would just drive himself and I could come by later after my appointment with my doctor in Denver.  Of course, I did not allow this to happen, but I must admit I was tempted when the alarm went off at 4:00 a.m.

At 7:30, he was all prepped and ready to go into surgery, but surgery did not really begin until 8:30.  Since I had to go to Denver for a 10:00 appointment, I left as soon as he was wheeled back to go pick up a dear friend who accompanied me to Denver.  The nurse in the OR called me every hour to update me on what was happening.  I arrived back to the hospital around 12:30.  Jim was still in surgery.  In the end, the surgery lasted between five and five and a half hours.  That is a very long time to be under anesthesia, but he seemed to handle it all very well.

The first night after surgery was spent on a surgical floor in a small room because the hospital was so full, they did not have a room for him in the area where they send back patients.  It was here where he received the visitor that really brought a smile to his face: Daniel the therapy dog.  Daniel actually lives across the street from us with our neighbor Janice.  Daniel is a very special golden retriever that was rescued by his owner, and now, he spends his time serving as a therapy dog.  I nearly cried when I saw Jim stroking Daniel's ears, patting his head, and talking to him.  I know how much he must miss his dear Boston.  Therapy dogs are wonderful.  Janice, thanks for sharing Daniel with us.

Thankfully, on Friday afternoon, Jim was sent down to the floor where the nurses are very familiar with caring for back patients.  He has been doing great as far as the surgery goes.  There have been a few little wrinkles that sometimes happen post surgery as the body adjusts to shock it has gone through.  I am confident all of these wrinkles will be be smoothed out soon.  

This is the fourth major surgery I have gone though with Jim.  He has had both knees replaced, a hip replacement, and now, he had to have a spinal fusion and decompression.  He sets off all kinds of alarms when he goes through airport security.  Having gone through these past surgeries with him, I am amazed at how quickly he has gotten up and around this time.  I think the knees were the worst.  I think he would agree with me, but I'm not sure.  

This man amazes me.  Truly, when his dear friend Woe nicknamed him "Nails," he knew what he was talking about.  "Nails" he is.  He is tough as nails that is for sure.  (Click on the link to read about how he dodged the bullet when he was 95% blocked in his LAD.)

Tonight, I have Boston our dear golden retriever home with me.  He has been kenneled since Wednesday.  He is sleeping at my feet as I write.  I am comforted and feel more settled with him by my side.  I hated coming home to this house from the hospital when I knew that neither of my special guys would be here.  Boston is missing his master.  I am missing him too.  I hope he is able to come home to join us in the next day or two.