Life: Idiotropic

Preface to the series of posts on my recent trip to California:

Entry not backdated to fit in chronologically as usual -- written post trip over a few days. I can't seem to get my mind focused on anything, so it's hard to put anything down - even something simple like a trip back home. But then, this trip wasn't entirely simple either. There was a purpose to it and the timing while a blessing, kinda through me for a loop.

I went to San Francisco to celebrate my dad's 60th birthday, my grandfather's 86th, and to spend some quality time with both my dad and my grandparents. After all, I hadn't been home in 2.5 years. Hadn't set foot in my country in that long. It was time.

I went, I saw, I marveled at the wonder and beauty of the place I call home, reawakened to all those things that I'd previously taken fore granted. I spent quality time with my dad and had two good visits with my grandparents.

Literally, we made a list and checked off every single important thing, plus added a few things in just for fun. And, so I will blog that list, essentially, as I did things and add photos and show all the great foods we ate and places we saw. All of it mattered. My dad took the entire time off so every moment counted. But, in typing that, there are several hours that while spent well, I ache knowing I could have spent them better - may be.

Words usually come pretty easily, but there doesn't seem to be a good way to convey a tragedy. And tragedies and blessings can march hand in hand at times. The blessing is the time I spent with my grandfather. The tragedy is his passing just one week ago today. More needs to be said, but I'm still processing this one. Still... looking back on the week and those two days spent sitting together at his dining room table, there's no way to write about it without putting it in perspective. Each little thing now carries with it more weight.

So on to the trip...

Day One:

Blame jet lag for the sideways photo and my lack of motivation to fix it. Hmm... wonder how long I can blame jet lag? For now, it's a good excuse.

Wow. I love my country. I love California. It's sunny and blue, clean, beautiful... friendly. I'd forgotten how wide the streets are, how clean and bright everything looks, and how absolutely amazing it feels to talk with people - just random strangers - in that open, friendly way that we do in the states - or at least on the west coast. Oh, how great it felt to be able to smile and idly chat with cashiers and waiters or people on the sidewalk.

I saw it differently today. After two and a half years of admiring the slightest details in Europe, it's opened my eyes to those same beautiful details that I missed before at home. So today, on the way to lunch, we pulled over to take pictures of a bank with a beautiful mosaic mural that covered the entire face of the building. I felt a little silly - not used to being a tourist at home, but then again, if I were in Italy and saw a facade like this, of course, I'd go crazy with photos of it. It's beautiful! So I did. I took pictures of this building up close and afar, the gas station sign next door with the gas prices listed, and the tall white building across the street with "Benjamin Franklin" written across the top in over sized letters. Tiara and I were excited about the large group of bicyclists riding by (not one of them in hot pink - a very acceptable men's color in Europe), and the palm and eucalyptus trees scattered around everywhere.

We lunched at Nawab - a fantastic Indian restaurant in San Mateo enjoying their generous lunch buffet and stuffing ourselves like we have only done in America. Great food. Such flavors. And, shock of the century - at least for me - the food prices! I can afford to eat!!! Of course, the night before I flew to California, Kirk and I, thinking that 1) we were hungry and 2) that it was our 10-year anniversary, so we ought not to just go our separate ways without some stab at celebration, went to a small hotel cafe - the only place we could find open on Good Friday in Zaventum, BE - and attempted to eat. The prices alone were enough to choke on, so knowing that Kirk and the little girls could go home and eat properly, Tiara and I ordered small meals, Kirk ordered a small meal, and the little girls had cocoa and fries. The food was average with the exception of the Neuhaus chocolate eggs that accompanied my coffee and the girl's cocoas, and the portions were small, but the bill was 81 Euros which translates to about $127 USD. Ouch. Ahhh... so the joy of eating excellent food and paying 1/3 of that - wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. Makes me wish I was a bear or camel and I could just eat and eat and stockpile it all in lovely rolls of fat, then live off of that for the next year or however long until I could come back to the Bay area and eat properly. (By the way - that young woman in the photo above is Tiara - incredible, huh? I just know I'm not nearly old enough nor mature enough to have an almost teenager already? She's supposed to still be my little blond girl with ringlets... oh, where does the time go????)

This morning was our first morning in California and there wasn't even the slightest hint of jet lag - thank goodness. Angie made the most delicious cup of coffee from a local roaster. I enjoyed the luxury of eating a whole avocado on my English muffin (I hadn't had avocados since we moved to Germany - yes, we get them in the stores, but they are expensive and not nearly as good as a California avocado). Then I called and spoke with my grandparents right away to see when we could visit.

Normally, I would call on the first day, they would check their busy schedules, and we'd pick the day or two that would work. Today was different. Grandpa had been sick. He was home. Grandma was home with him. To my surprise, Grandpa said, "how about today?" Yes, today. Of course. We met them at 2pm after stopping at Starbucks first to get coffees for everyone including Grandma's cappuccino extra dry. Grandma set out delicious cookies, chocolate macaroons, and cheesecake. Grandpa was sitting in the garden enjoying the sun.

Then we sat and talked. Grandpa asked, "spreche sie Deutch?"
"Ya, ich spreche nur ein bissien Deutch"

Just a couple more sentences in German, then we switched briefly to Spanish. Grandpa loves language and is proud of the range that he can speak. Then to English, of course, where everyone can participate.

We spent 4 hours there talking. Grandpa told us a little about his time in Budapest and I told him a little about my life in Germany. We even covered the taboo subjects of politics and religion discussing this year's election prospects and the differences in Christian churches. It was quiet. No fanfare. Just relaxed talk with my grandfather. Moments that will remain precious to me, but can't be described here, really. You know - we all have those people - those precious people with whom just a few minutes can mean so much. It doesn't need to be exciting, but you just know that you are in the presence of someone absolutely amazing. Well... I can only dress up a conversation over coffee and cookies so much, but, my grandfather was one of those people. One of those absolutely amazings who never wasted a single day. A man that I'd be proud to know even if he wasn't my grandfather - but he was MY grandfather, so it makes me just that much prouder.

By 6 it was late... time to go. Dragging our feet a bit. Good bye was hard even then. And then instead of the straight shot back, my dad took us on a little tour of Pacifica, the town where he grew up climbing the hills and exploring ever corner. Up and around Pedro point, then over to the Sharp Park pier at sunset for a nice walk and some photo ops. Saw the fisherman and some friendly sea gulls. Watched the waves lap against the barnacle encrusted pilings and lost myself in the patterns and layers of the white foam capped waves breaking upon the rocks on the shore. Watched people taking walks. Tourists with cameras, locals together. Friends and dates. Peace and the sun's glow upon the Pacific.