A Year of Blogging: June 6, 2011

Anyone of a certain age knows June 6 as D-Day. On June 6, 1944, the Allied troops landed on the beaches of Normandy, France. It began the liberation of France. It is one of the biggest battles of WWII. I have always known June 6 was D-Day. And it has always made me a little sad because June 6 is also my birthday. This year was number 35. For some reason, the thought of turning 35 bothered me for months. I can't explain it. I haven't been bothered by the traditional big numbers: 20, 30. No. Those were nothing! But 27 and 35? Big freak outs! Twenty-seven was the first time I tried to buy alcohol (which I do very rarely) and was not carded. In Ohio, they are supposed to card you if you look like you are under 30. When I wasn't carded at 27, I thought I must look old! I had given the sales clerk my license, and she laughed and said 'oh, I don't need that!' I colored my hair the next day, just in case I looked 30! So this year, 35 seemed so old. I know, my friends who are in their 50s, 60s, and 70s are laughing at me. And now that I am 35, I'm ok. I did the same thing I've done for the past few years- I went home to NY to spend the weekend with my family. When Monday rolled around, everyone went to work. I was fine with that, it gave me a day to myself. I slept until 8am, which at Mom's is incredibly late. I woke up, did my laundry, and got my bag packed for my departing flight on Tuesday. Dad came home around 9:30 from his first bus run, and we chatted until he left at 10:20 for the next run. After Dad left, I took off for my day. Mom had left her new Rav4 for me. I always feel odd driving my parents' cars. They've had SUVs that are bigger than what I'm used to driving, or cars that I'm not used to. I get really nervous driving their cars. No more! I have a Rav4, so driving Mom's was just like being at home. Especially since it's the same color. I wanted to visit a couple of cemeteries and work more on my genealogy. I drove over the mountain, and took roads I don't normally take. I used to drive these roads all the time, it was nice to drive them again. There were no other cars on these rural mountain roads. I felt like I had the whole world to myself. The country station my parents listen to plays a good mix of 'old' country (ie- the music I grew up listening to), and I found myself singing along quite a bit. I slipped into my own world, and was scared out of my mind when an eagle rose from the side of the road and flew over the hood of the car. It's a good thing there were no other cars around- I stopped in the middle of the road and watched the eagle soar overhead. It was breathtaking! I was on high alert looking for a moose. The moose population in Rensselaer county has been increasing steadily over the past few years. When I was a child, each spring there would be a news story about a young bull moose wandering around the Troy area. They came out of the Adirondacks, searching for food and mates. If there is too much competition in one area, the male moose wanders until there is less competition. We never saw moose in our area (my parents live about 30 minutes from Troy). In the past five years, moose sightings in my hometown have increased. Now it seems everyone has seen at least one moose. Dad saw one last year while mowing for the county. Last year, there were 5 moose (I think that's the number, it may have been more) killed by car/moose collisions in the county! Over the weekend, Dad talked to one of their neighbors, who had a female moose and her calf in his backyard. The moose walked off the mountain into his yard. Friends on Facebook reported seeing a moose on the top of 'The Mountain' (the road that goes over the mountain on the west side of Berlin is referred to as 'The Mountain'). I was excited. Where Mom and Dad live is very rural, but the roads I was traveling were even more rural. I was in the same area that several people have spotted a moose. And, I had my camera next to me on the seat. So of course, I did not see a moose. It wasn't a total loss- I heard one later in the day! My first stop was visiting the Taborton church cemetery. Taborton church was my Grandma's church (it's official name is Zion United Church of Christ, but we always called it Taborton church, or Gram's church). The church was built by my great-great grandfather. It has been the family church for generations. I think everyone who currently goes there is related to us somehow! The church sits on a hill on top of a mountain. Behind the church, on another hill, is the cemetery. As with the church, I think everyone buried there is a relative in some way. I've been to the cemetery before, but wanted to see what relatives I had missed the first time through. I parked the car and walked across the gently rising and sharply falling land. I instantly wished I had brought bug spray, but I hadn't so I tried to ignore the bugs. I read the stones, mentally piecing together the relationship between myself and the person buried there. Monday was a beautiful day. The sky was a brilliant clear blue. There were fluffy cotton ball clouds in the sky. It was warm, but there was a nice breeze. As I wandered through this sacred plot, I had time to reflect on the day, on the gift God had presented to me. I was grateful that I had the day to walk around outside, to enjoy the beauty that surrounded me. I have often thought that I was so fortunate to grow up in one of the prettiest places on earth. It is truly God's country. Yet I get caught up in my own thing, I don't always take a moment to step back and enjoy the wonder. On my 35th birthday, I did just that. I drove out of the cemetery driveway, and parked the car at the end. I walked the few yards to the driveway of the church. The last time I was in the church was for Grandma's funeral in February. I thought I would be sad, but instead, I felt this incredible combination of extreme peace and a strong connection to the place. There are some places in my life that are my roots. I can feel them grounding me, and providing a steady foundation. Taborton is one of those places. I feel the arms of previous generations holding me. It is not a smothering feeling, but rather a very comforting one. As I stood there looking at the church, I noticed the sign out front advertising the Turkey Dinner that was held June 4. For the first time in many years (as long as I can remember), the number to call for reservations was unfamiliar. Grandma always handled the reservations. The peacefulness that overcame me caused me to take a picture of the sign. I thought better of sharing it on Facebook, because I didn't know how my cousins would react. It didn't upset me. I turned to the lake across the road. It is a beautiful clear lake surrounded by woods. Unlike many lakes, the shore is not dominated by houses. I've always considered it a hidden jewel in the wilderness. It's like a wonderful piece of the Adirondacks without the tourists! I left Taborton and drove to the cemetery where Grandma is buried. When I stepped out of the car, I grabbed a pack of Kleenex and put it in my pocket. The same calmness and serenity that had found me in Taborton stayed with me. I was prepared for a meltdown, and surprised when none came. The people who mowed the cemetery had carelessly tossed our flower arrangements on top of Grandma's grave. I knew which arrangement was supposed to go on my sister's grave, and which ones went on dad's sisters' graves. I rearranged the flowers and brushed the dead grass off the stones. I really wish I had taken a pair of hand trimmers, because the grass was growing around the base of the stones making it hard to read the family headstone. Once I had cleaned up the family plot as best I could without any kind of tools, I wandered through other parts of the cemetery. I found more relatives that I've missed on my previous rounds. I know some people get creeped out at the thought of walking through a cemetery, but it doesn't bother me. I love reading the headstones and piecing together the family tree. My Aunt wanted to meet me for lunch, so I chose the diner near her house. I knew she could find her way there, and I knew I could find my way there. We had a nice lunch, then I went to her apartment for a while. She lives in senior housing, and is one of the youngest people there. There are always old ladies for her to introduce me to. Walking to her apartment quickly turns into a social event. She has been helping my sister by picking Syd up from school every day, so when she left to get Sydney, I went to visit Mom at work because I hadn't seen her all day. Then I met Aunt Arlene & Sydney at the park. Sydney was so excited! She could hardly stand still while I pulled into the parking lot. Once I was out of the car, she told Aunt Arlene (whom she calls Duckie) "Aunt Amy and I are going to play. You can go home, Duckie." Sydney felt she had to clean the park before she could play. I was told to watch Ruby, her doll, because "sometimes she crawls away". Syd played for about half an hour on the swings and slides. There were a lot of children there, but none of them were her little friends. It was so hot on Monday, and there is no shade by the playground. I had a tiny bottle of water I kept sharing with her. Around 3pm, I asked her if she was hot, and she said 'Yes, let's go home and turn the air conditioners on.' That sounded like a great idea to me! We went home and each had a nice cold drink. Then we played in her room. We had an hour at home before my Mom arrived with Drew. I had to give Drew a bottle, and Mom left to pick up Dad so we could all go out to dinner. I played with Sydney and Drew for another hour. At one point, I had Drew on one side of my lap, Sydney draped on the other side of my lap, and Patterson and Chesney (my sister's dogs) hanging over my shoulders from the back of the couch. Everyone wanted a piece of Aunt Amy. I didn't mind. I enjoyed every second. When my brother in law (and birthday twin) came home, we piled into the Rav and went to Kay's for pizza. We met the rest of the family there. We had a yummy dinner, and lots of fun. Then it was time for the goodbyes. It wasn't as sad this time. Maybe because I'll be back there in about 9 weeks. I had the perfect birthday. I had time for myself, time as Aunt Amy, and time with the family. All of my favorite things-stuffed into one beautiful day. And the best part? It didn't rain a drop!