After living in the Bay Area again recently for a year, we started missing some of the highlights. We wrote about these in the “Catching up with the Bay Area” adventures. So Rich started pricing out a “California Wine Country” driving trip. We soon realized it would cost less to take a California Coastal cruise on Princess this fall, especially with his airline discount. So that settles the question of what to do this fall. We’re booked!
We love to cruise, especially while we’re living in the desert. Arizona even has a cruising club for water lovers living in the desert. And cruising is the most affordable option for us right now.
It was a thrill to finally sail under the Sunshine Skyway Bridge in Tampa after living there for a couple of years. The other bridge we must sail under is the Golden Gate Bridge.
Oh the stories I’d heard growing up – how my mother got a stiff neck staring up at this big ship as it sailed into the Bay when my s-dad returned from Korea.
Of course, that was before I’d heard the story of my parents living in San Francisco right after they were married and where I was conceived before my father was shipped overseas to fight a war. I first heard the story when my grandmother and her husband were living in Clear Lake just north of San Francisco after he retired from his job in Los Angeles. My mother and I were visiting from Oregon and I, about 19 or 20 at the time, said, “Let’s go to San Francisco.” So we did.
While walking on Market Street, my mother gazed up at an apartment building and with a twinkle in her eye said, “I lived there once.” I realized then she was talking about my father, something she rarely did and certainly not in front of my s-dad. This was so unexpected that I was taken aback. I’d been trained not to mention my father. And when my grandmother gave me photos of him and a letter from him, my mother said I had to give them back.
Unprepared, I casually said, “Oh, with your boyfriend?” I couldn’t bring myself to mention “my father” or “your husband.” And then we both giggled a bit nervously.
It was like my mother and I had a separate, secret relationship from the rest of the family. I treasure those moments with my mother but after I stumbled on the truth (that she dumped him instead of the other way around, among other things), she refuses to go there. Instead, she insists on talking about my s-dad as if he was my only dad and that is especially painful to me.