TEN YEARS AGO IN 2000

TEN YEARS AGO IN 2000

The memory bank opens and I find myself transported back to 2000, a year of significant changes in my life. Looking back, I was faced with challenges and decisions that would turn my life around.

The year started out with an increasing dissatisfaction with my life. There was something to be said about living in a rut. I was tired of the snow and cold, and I had poured over gardening catalogs long enough. I made a New Year's Resolution that changes would be made!

In early 2000, I worked for the State as a secretary, turned sixty-four in May and looked forward to retirement. My thirty years guaranteed me a pension and I was sure that if the need arose, I could still find work - dig ditches or wash windows, if need be. It was time for a change. A co-worker gave me a Retirement Clock, marking off the remaining days of work. It was fun to see the days go by, although I began to have mixed feelings about leaving my co-workers, my friends.

The office buzzed with plans for a Retirement Party, and that was supposed to be a surprise for me although not too many could keep it a secret. The big night arrived with friends and family waiting for my "grand entrance" into the restaurant. My daughters had given me a new dress for the event and had my hair done. At work, we were allowed to wear slacks, not many of us dressed up for the work weeks. It was our choice to "be comfortable" and ready to dig in to whatever needed to be done.

It was a great party. I was pleased to see everyone. My boss gave me an introduction, along with some Irish music and a nephew and three great-nephews who had formed a barbershop quartet sang more Irish tunes. There was always someone around with a camera and after the party I was given an album as a keepsake. One of our co-workers wrote a poem highlighting some of the fun we had shared over the years. It was hilarious. I was given a gift of money and instructions on doing something fantastic with it. My orders were to HAVE FUN!

In August I boarded a plane to visit my son in Alaska. Now I am not the bravest soul to fly, but excitement grew and I looked forward to seeing him again. The flight went smoothly, with only one change in Chicago, where I boarded another plane to Fairbanks, Alaska. I was thrilled to see the mountains as we flew over the "last frontier". My son and his wife were waiting for me at the airport and after a few bear bugs, we headed to the home he had built there.

In the days that followed, we drove around the countryside where I marveled at the beauty. It was there I saw the pipeline, the mountains, the wildlife and we even panned for gold. We didn't find any gold, but I had a treasure of memories and took countless pictures. We visited a Christmas shop where I saw real reindeer and Santa Claus in North Pole, a village not far from their home. North Pole is a unique town, always Christmas there! The light poles were painted with red and white stripes to resemble candy canes. Even the post office was decorated, with a large North Pole sign.

My son had an appointment in Anchorage to see a heart specialist. The three of us went down, my son driving, stopping along the way to admire the Denali mountain range. He showed me where they had gone snowmobiling and where they had stayed at a motel along the way which was shaped like an igloo. It was a long ride from Fairbanks, about five hundred miles worth of exquisite scenery.

We arrived in Anchorage, checked into a hotel and then went for a ride before he had to check in at the hospital. If I was not the bravest of flyers, I was certainly not a great passenger. The roads scared me and they took me back to the hotel. They went back out and saw mountain goats in the hills above the narrow road I had freaked out on. I needed to learn to not panic, for I missed some special time with them.

When it was time for him to check into the hospital, his wife and I waited for the testing to be done. The results were not good and the doctor told us that if he left the hospital without having surgery, he would be a dead man. He was checked in and underwent a quadruple heart bypass. Life is fragile, and I learned to pray - to let go and let God. I was due to fly home, since my return ticket was dated for only the two weeks. His wife called and got the flight extended for a week..

After his surgery, we were allowed in to see him. I have seen healthier a looking corpse. Tubes were everywhere, he was white as a sheet, and still in the recovery stages. When he woke up, he was able to talk to us a little. He wanted to go home! It would be another week before he would be released. We didn't tell him right away that I had to fly home. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do but the time came, and he didn't understand why I had to go. His wife drove me to the airport, and I flew Alaska Airlines back to Fairbanks where her father met me and brought me home to get my things. He drove me back to the airport and I boarded another Alaska Airlines plane to fly to Seattle. A connecting flight was made and I arrived back in Vermont safe and sound.

My son and his wife finally got back home. He was hurt that I had left him and angry with me. I cried a lot that year. Time passed and eventually things got better between us. I had gone back to work part-time and a saving grace in the form of a renewed interest in writing.

I had always written poetry, and 2000 was the year I compiled my first book, "Love, Julie". I had hired a friend to do the set-up for printing, had two nieces edit it, made some changes, and took it to a local printing company. It was a dream I'd had for many years, and turned out well. It sold many copies, and I figured that was it for me. Never did I think that I would be writing or publishing another book. It was in 2000 that I came across the Writing.com website. I was hooked, my spare time was secure. The reviews and guidance from members of the site who reviewed my work gave me encouragement and inspiration. It really does help to write out the feelings, and in the process, another book idea was formed. A friend who also wrote poetry joined Writing.com and together we wrote the next book, Flying Free. Most of the poems in the book were born on this website.

It was in 2000 that I joined the DAR (Daughters of the American Revolution). I figured it would look good in my obituary, but I didn't die and they put me to work as chapter secretary and as an interviewer for the Veterans Oral History Project. That became the inspiration for starting a group on the website called Our Veterans.

All in all, the year 2000 was quite a challenge. That I survived it is in part due to the existence of Writing.Com. Thanks for the memories!

Countrymom
9/06/10

Word Count: 1,296