Worth Remembering

 Los Angeles, California

What. A. Year. It started with the fires and evacuation. A few months later, Joel had surgery to repair a forty-year old injury which had broken his nose. The post-op and recuperation was tough. But he got better. And then, about three weeks after that, Joel had an accident at work and tore the rotator cuff in his shoulder. That injury is still not repaired and Joel has spent the last nine months wrangling with his Worker's Comp-provided treatment (or lack there of).

Over Memorial Day Weekend, we attended the Valley Greek Festival. It is something we do every year and we were joined by our friends, Connie and Curt. Connie is Greek, 100%, and I have learned a lot about Greek culture from her since we became friends while we were still in college. And I am in lust with the honey-soaked, yeasty Greek fritters called loukemades. And, I only get them once a year at this event.

In June, I purchased a new Tesla and a magnet for it which basically indicated no support for Elan Musk, in spite of buying his product. I thought long and hard about replacing my 2018 Tesla with a new one, and my friend and guru, Cathy, helped me work my way through this decision. Some of my friends were unloading their Teslas in protest of what havoc Musk was wreaking. But then, they were still shopping Amazon, which I frankly find reprehensible. They all say: Oh, but it's so convenient. Yeah, well it is also convenient to not have to go to gas stations. While the devils are different, it is still the same hell. So I continued my boycott of Amazon but bought a new 3. The newer model is sublime and I have had no guilt pangs over my decision.

July brought Joel's birthday and a mid-month visit from my friend, Karen, who flew in from Phoenix. We attended a screening of Ken Burn's new documentary at the Academy (of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences) Museum. And, Ken Burns participated in a pre-film intro and post-film Q+A! I was ecstatic at attending this event, preceded by a lovely dinner at Fanny's, the restaurant at the Museum. Later that month Joel and I began dancing at the Autry Museum. It was part of their Sizzling Summer Nights series which they host every year. It was a great opportunity to see some longtime salsa friends and dance under the stars.

Around the middle of August, I woke up one morning and limped into the kitchen. No idea where that was coming from nor what to do to get remedy. I have a toolbox full of devices to use when something in my overused body is aching. I used them all; I got a massage; I underwent acupuncture. I tried everything, but nothing was working and I continued to limp. After a few weeks of this, my PC doc diagnosed this as iliapsoas tightness and demonstrated a physical therapy routine to help. It didn't help. Then Cathy determined that I was having a sciatic flare-up. This made sense as the pain was jumping around from hip to quad to shin. I had always thought sciatica was intense pain down the back of your leg. Not always, Cathy said. And she clarified that this wasn't sciatica, but rather a sciatic nerve flare-up which can manifest in a number of symptoms.

We attended a Dodgers game late that month, and Joel supported me while I limped into and out of the stadium. Luckily, we have our Dodgers routine down with parking just outside of our entrance, but it still felt like a long trek. Though not so long as on our travel to Santa Fe in early September. By the time we arrived in Santa Fe, Joel had received two cortisone injections for his torn rotator cuff and was once again pain-free. I, however, was hurting, though it was manageable with Advil. Still, we drove routes that should have been walked, and when we went to the A Prairie Home Companion show at Santa Fe Opera, I needed to ride the shuttle to the venue. Luckily, the show attracted a lot of seniors, so there were ample shuttles.

By October, I was no longer limping and by the time we arrived in Carmel to celebrate my birthday and the World Series, I was able to walk around town, though my flare-up was far from over. By November, we were finally both well enough to dance. It was lovely to share a dance floor once again with salsa friends.

And then it was Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's Eve. Not a great year, but now behind us. I am much better, working out well and feeling grateful for a return to normal (more or less). Joel, not so much, and we recently took him for a second opinion as to why his shoulder continues to pain him, and more importantly, what it takes to get care after a work-related injury. Hopefully, this too shall pass. This is his year in Chinese astrology. It is the year of the Horse. Hopefully our horse and rabbit show can get back to salsa dancing in early 2026. Horse and rabbit show. Somehow I never thought I would coin that phrase, but I hope by year's end I can write that it was a very good show and year. For now I can only wish us all a very Happy New (and improved) Year! 🙏

Christmas 2025

 Los Angeles, California

There was something about the coming year of 2020 that I liked and it gave me high hopes for the year. The number 2020 was so equal, so balanced. Plus it was one hundred years since my mom was born in 1920. I was feeling good about it as that year began. ...and we all know how that turned out.

2025 seemed like a good number as well. It represented a quarter of a century. We had made it that far since the millennium. It wasn't easy, but we had a pandemic behind us, the stock market was doing well, most of us were healthy. Ten days into it, I was driving down Ventura Boulevard, accompanied by the voice of my friend, Connie, on speaker. I was enroute to my friends' home in the Hollywood Hills. I had been evacuated from my own home, due to the Palisades fire.

Without a recap of the entire year, which I intend to do in a future post (maybe even my next), I'll just say: It wasn't easy. Between Joel and I there were the evacuations, a surgery, and a couple of debilitating injuries (one each). But the year wasn't a total loss. There was... The Dodgers! Anyway, all of this to come in another post. What this one is about is: Christmas.

After Tom died, Christmas was a huge challenge. Long-held traditions needed to be chucked, including the large tree we used to put up. I bought a small tree and began collecting new ornaments. Each year I put a photo ornament of Joel and me on the little tree, and an ornament from wherever we had traveled that year.

A new tradition is eating crab on Christmas Eve. And we have often roasted a duck on Christmas Day. We spend our time together, in the kitchen then watching some Christmas-themed film after dinner. That's a tradition I could not throw away, though I have new favorites along with the old ones. Remember the Night is one of the new ones.

We had spent Thanksgiving with Connie's family, and as we drove home, listening to A Charlie Brown Christmas, I had a different feeling about the impending holidays. In the past, Joel would occasionally comment that I got depressed every year at Christmas time, and I admit there have been some plain damn hard ones. But something felt lighter this year.

The next day I raced to get out the Christmas mugs and set up the little tree on the table by the wide doors in the corner of my den. My many Santas were placed on tables throughout the house. By the time Ana arrived to clean my house the following week, Christmas was alive and well in my home. Joel had brought a half-dozen poinsettias including two giant ones. This is an early Christmas present he arrives with each year at the beginning of the season. They lined the front porch and a fresh wreath went up on the door. The house was exploding with Christmas, and I was feeling the holiday spirit. And that continued throughout the month.

Connie invited us back for Christmas Day, so I baked a ginger pound cake with a brown sugar and creme fraiche glaze. I could have skipped the cake and just eaten the glaze, that's how good it is. Or maybe everything I was savoring seemed more intense, more sweet, more appreciated. It was simply the best Christmas I could remember in an incredibly long time. When I saw Cathy for my workout even she commented that I seemed to have broken my Christmas depression curse. 

And now the New Year is on its way and I have high hopes for it. I am making a French-Canadian Meat Pie for New Year's Eve, and Connie and Curt are coming to watch the ball drop on Times Square. That's the culmination of our celebration of the New Year. True, when that occurs it is only nine o'clock in Los Angeles, but it's close enough. And then 2026 will commence. A brand spanking new slate. Once, someone I used to know remarked that everyone should celebrate Rosh Hashannah as it gives you two fresh starts each year. I like that idea, but right now I am just focussed on 2026. Not a number I am particularly taken with, but what the heck. After ending the year on such a great, high note, I'm ready to charge into the new one. Somehow, I think it's going to be ok. Maybe even better than ok. Ready? Set. Go...