Ben and I enjoyed a beautiful 2nd weekend of our 34th year of marriage. I won’t talk about the weekend before, except to say that rewinds, redos, they are needed at times, advice from a wise new 30 year old, I’m glad we took her suggestion.
So while we had a quiet lunch, acuerdense, with my flaco, it usually is quiet, unless I’m spilling out my many words. I was hunkering down to really rest while I listened to a Nicolas Sparks audiobook. Then Ben did it, he threw me off with spontaneity! He calculated the afternoon time and figured we could have a nice walk at Coronado Island and then come home for his Sunday afternoon nap. Sorry to be so non romantic here, Pero, I too calculated my winnings, time spent with my Cold Blooded Englishman or a novela? Hard cold calculations didn’t stop us, so off we went to Coronado.
Crossing the Coronado bridge is a beautiful sight: the boats on the bay, the ocean water, and sunbathing on the sand, it is what San Diego thrives on. Bien bonito! It felt good to be out with Ben, just because. Then, with the boats on his radar, my flaco began to share his memories and I peeked into his childhood again. Hijole! His memories always floor me, because what he experienced with his family is so completely foriegn to me, deveras que, I get a little, no! MUY uncomfortable at the reminder of how different the worlds we came from are. I’m thinking of the famous Mexican singer/actor Pedro Infante. One of his movies is called “Nosotros Los Pobres.” “We The Poor.” I’ll have to sit down and watch it with my sis again, he was a favorite of my ama and our unreachable heart throb.
I have joked with Ben about his rich upbringing, and he laughs, because he says they weren’t rich, they were just middle class. Pero fijense, with very little prompting as we walked hand in hand, Ben remembered his childhood summer vacations. My brain was working hard to grasp what he described, and it kept coming to a blank wall. His family drove to the coast of Massachusetts and Rhode Island where they chartered a boat and sailed from one island to another. “What did you do?” Ben was puzzled at my question, well, they enjoyed the ocean air, fishing, visiting the different islands, pero, my California mind couldn’t imagine such quiet repose as enjoyment. In the end he had to show me on google maps and images what he enjoyed.
Ben’s father, whom I didn’t get the chance to meet, was an architect. He designed the house Ben and his brothers grew up in. It was designed in Mid Century style, and Nancy, mi suegra decorated her house beautifully with her artistic flair. The first time I went there I was nervous, it felt a little bit like I was walking through a museum. Mid century modern furniture and real painting on the walls and expensive pottery, everything individual yet it all tied together nicely. The predominant trait was the huge glass windows from ceiling to floor all around the house. The windows all around the house intimidated me. Anyone could look right into the house. Even though you could see the beautiful scenery outdoors, I wondered what I was going to do when I had to use the bathroom, not to mention a shower. Pero, gracias a Dios that Ben taught me the trick of steaming up the large bathroom windows first, hijole!
This style of houses were “trending” in those days and Bens apa Walter Farrar Greene aka “Skip” had connections with other architects, thus he was able to acquire the use of the well known Glass House in Martha’s Vineyard for their family vacations! And he says they weren’t rich?! He’s quick to humbly correct my assumptions by telling me that his dad knew the brother of the architect, and I say “Ok, vacation on Martha’s Vineyard Island.” True vacations, where they rested, enjoyed good books, took in the nature of the island and of course went spent time on the boat. Maybe the only “unrest” that my suegra experienced was her three little boys nagging her to take them to the beach again. When I go over to Ben’s world in New England and we vacation, my Southern California spirit yearns for action and activity after three days of rest! The quietness gets too noisy for me. A la otra, on our next vacation I’ll have to have Ben take me to one of those Islands he visited.
It was bien nice hanging out with my flaco on our own San Diego Island in Coronado last weekend. We walked and he talked, asi es, my man of few words, shared them with me. Luego, I danced with Elvis.
Again I’m amazed that after 34 years of incompatibility and our different worlds God has blessed our journey and carried us through the very difficult terrain. Gracias a Dios, that he is always with us.