Happy 2016!
I started the year with an old idiom I used to hear a lot because I have several wishes that have been rolling through my head as we neared the end of 2015. Here are just a few:
First and foremost, I have a soul-deep wish that all who read this line will have a happy and prosperous new year. In short, I hope that all my readers swim in riches in 2016 and beyond. No matter where you live, you deserve a safe place to live where rain, snow, heat and snow are kept at bay. You deserve enough food to eat and perhaps a bit more to share with others who are not as lucky. And above all, you deserve to be respected and loved.
My other wishes mostly revolve around the other names that I'm seeking after finding that a good friend passed away a couple of years ago. The discovery that a seemingly healthy man who encouraged me to try new, healthy foods and led me to find many new "favorite foods" over the years had passed from the same health issue that is currently plaguing my husband has made me recall other names from my past - and I'm listing the people I'm seeking here on the off chance that one of my blog readers may know this person and can instigate a reconnection in the coming year...
So, here is the list of people (including the last place I saw them):
Donald T. Wyman, Jr. - my sister's first husband - who was called "Tommy" by his family to avoid confusion when he was in ther presence of his father, who was usually called "Don". When my sister divorced him, the man she called "Donnie" was living in Bangor, but his parents were living in Kissimee, Florida. I would love to reach him to find out if he ever got a photo of him and my husband (who was still my fiance at the time of the divorce) fake kissing under the mistletoe at my mom's house in what I believe was a Christmas 1982 prank. Our camera malfunctioned and my sister destroyed all photos of him after their divorce, so it's one of those "fond memories" I'd love to have in a photo album for my kids.
Kimball Blake, who was living in St. Cloud, Florida in an apartment with my sister and the above man in 1979 when I attempted to begin my college years in Orlando. I've always wanted to tell Kim "Thank you" for trying to help out a total stranger when I was struggling to break away from my sister's influence and find myself. Some things, like the description of a love bug smashing against his motorcycle helmet (which won him extra fried chicken when he grossed out my sis) and a joke about me being "the White Tornado" when he'd step into the shower and step out to a clean apartment, have followed me into other situations....
Blair Colyer, a truck driver whom I "dated" off and on at Bangor Community College in 1980 and 1981, He inadvertently became part of my first published novel's lead character, as he was a truck driver with long hair and a beard, he smoked, and he introduced me to Bloody Marys. I'd love to be able to send him a book and see if he still likes the blues, as he used to gather up a group of people to go to a blues bar in downtown Bangor, driving us there and safely home in his van.
David M. Faunce, whom I met at a religious retreat called "Antioch" and who became a pen pal for many years afterward. The last time I knew where he was, I had sent a letter that I was breaking up with Bill and was thinking about where to go and what to do next, thinking that I might go back to Orlando and apply for a job at DisneyWorld (which was one of the places that I wanted to work while living in the apartment with Don and Kim in St. Cloud, but which my sister absolutely refused to let me apply for because she'd heard "bad things"). Dave offered to let me stay in his apartment in New York along the way, but when I sent a follow up letter that we'd reconciled, the second letter came back. I've often wondered what happened between the break up letter and the reconciliation letter.
The list may grow in future posts, but those are some of the names that are coming right to the forefront this morning, as I eat my cereal and drink my coffee to prepare for a 10 hour shift at Staples. My body, as always, is complaining that I'm getting too old to be doing this to myself, so I'm going to close on one last wish:
I wish that either my books would sell or that I can find a job that is gentler on my aging bones. This weekly "pallet workout" thing is really getting old.....
Blessed be, and may your New Year be truly happy.
Addendum January 2:
On another drive with my husband, we were discussing this blog post and who we've found over the years among our friends and family we'd lost track of. Some of the ones we've searched for over the years have been found in the obituary pages. Heart attacks, car accidents, some "after a long illness" and others simply listed as "died suddenly". Others have been located, most on Facebook, or through others who know them and pass on messages or get us snail mail addresses....
We came up with one more person to add to the above list:
Barbara Johnson, a beautiful singer from Oakland, Maine whom I met at B.C.C. - and who introduced me to a friend of hers. He was dating another girl at the time, but then they broke up and we started dating....and then we stopped for a while....and then we started again....and then we lived together ....and then we got married....and it might be fun to let Barb know that her innocent introduction has resulted in almost 35 years of my hubby and I being together.
While we both express the hope that this post doesn't result in an attentive reader sending us another obituary, we've come to understand that nor everyone gets to grow old and complain about their bodies falling apart. As the hubby likes to say "It's always a good day when you're above ground."
I started the year with an old idiom I used to hear a lot because I have several wishes that have been rolling through my head as we neared the end of 2015. Here are just a few:
First and foremost, I have a soul-deep wish that all who read this line will have a happy and prosperous new year. In short, I hope that all my readers swim in riches in 2016 and beyond. No matter where you live, you deserve a safe place to live where rain, snow, heat and snow are kept at bay. You deserve enough food to eat and perhaps a bit more to share with others who are not as lucky. And above all, you deserve to be respected and loved.
My other wishes mostly revolve around the other names that I'm seeking after finding that a good friend passed away a couple of years ago. The discovery that a seemingly healthy man who encouraged me to try new, healthy foods and led me to find many new "favorite foods" over the years had passed from the same health issue that is currently plaguing my husband has made me recall other names from my past - and I'm listing the people I'm seeking here on the off chance that one of my blog readers may know this person and can instigate a reconnection in the coming year...
So, here is the list of people (including the last place I saw them):
Donald T. Wyman, Jr. - my sister's first husband - who was called "Tommy" by his family to avoid confusion when he was in ther presence of his father, who was usually called "Don". When my sister divorced him, the man she called "Donnie" was living in Bangor, but his parents were living in Kissimee, Florida. I would love to reach him to find out if he ever got a photo of him and my husband (who was still my fiance at the time of the divorce) fake kissing under the mistletoe at my mom's house in what I believe was a Christmas 1982 prank. Our camera malfunctioned and my sister destroyed all photos of him after their divorce, so it's one of those "fond memories" I'd love to have in a photo album for my kids.
Kimball Blake, who was living in St. Cloud, Florida in an apartment with my sister and the above man in 1979 when I attempted to begin my college years in Orlando. I've always wanted to tell Kim "Thank you" for trying to help out a total stranger when I was struggling to break away from my sister's influence and find myself. Some things, like the description of a love bug smashing against his motorcycle helmet (which won him extra fried chicken when he grossed out my sis) and a joke about me being "the White Tornado" when he'd step into the shower and step out to a clean apartment, have followed me into other situations....
Blair Colyer, a truck driver whom I "dated" off and on at Bangor Community College in 1980 and 1981, He inadvertently became part of my first published novel's lead character, as he was a truck driver with long hair and a beard, he smoked, and he introduced me to Bloody Marys. I'd love to be able to send him a book and see if he still likes the blues, as he used to gather up a group of people to go to a blues bar in downtown Bangor, driving us there and safely home in his van.
David M. Faunce, whom I met at a religious retreat called "Antioch" and who became a pen pal for many years afterward. The last time I knew where he was, I had sent a letter that I was breaking up with Bill and was thinking about where to go and what to do next, thinking that I might go back to Orlando and apply for a job at DisneyWorld (which was one of the places that I wanted to work while living in the apartment with Don and Kim in St. Cloud, but which my sister absolutely refused to let me apply for because she'd heard "bad things"). Dave offered to let me stay in his apartment in New York along the way, but when I sent a follow up letter that we'd reconciled, the second letter came back. I've often wondered what happened between the break up letter and the reconciliation letter.
The list may grow in future posts, but those are some of the names that are coming right to the forefront this morning, as I eat my cereal and drink my coffee to prepare for a 10 hour shift at Staples. My body, as always, is complaining that I'm getting too old to be doing this to myself, so I'm going to close on one last wish:
I wish that either my books would sell or that I can find a job that is gentler on my aging bones. This weekly "pallet workout" thing is really getting old.....
Blessed be, and may your New Year be truly happy.
Addendum January 2:
On another drive with my husband, we were discussing this blog post and who we've found over the years among our friends and family we'd lost track of. Some of the ones we've searched for over the years have been found in the obituary pages. Heart attacks, car accidents, some "after a long illness" and others simply listed as "died suddenly". Others have been located, most on Facebook, or through others who know them and pass on messages or get us snail mail addresses....
We came up with one more person to add to the above list:
Barbara Johnson, a beautiful singer from Oakland, Maine whom I met at B.C.C. - and who introduced me to a friend of hers. He was dating another girl at the time, but then they broke up and we started dating....and then we stopped for a while....and then we started again....and then we lived together ....and then we got married....and it might be fun to let Barb know that her innocent introduction has resulted in almost 35 years of my hubby and I being together.
While we both express the hope that this post doesn't result in an attentive reader sending us another obituary, we've come to understand that nor everyone gets to grow old and complain about their bodies falling apart. As the hubby likes to say "It's always a good day when you're above ground."
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