Today marks the eleventh month since Paul died. Itd oesn't seem that long ago that he has been gone. My grief is still raw and I have to pinch myself everyday to realize this is not a dream.
Since I have last posted 6 weeks ago a lot has happened. On May 24, it would have been our 31st wedding anniversary. On that evening, I sat down with my daughter, Brittany, and we looked through our wedding album. We laughed at the hairstyles, the clothing and my "Dynasty" styled dress. We both got a lot of comfort from looking at the pictures. I decided to go to Key West by myself the weekend before the anniversary. Paul and I had talked about going for our 31st. I wanted to go anyway so I could spend some time alone having fun not be reel in pain. I did have a very enjoyable time, reminiscing with a few old friends, walking the streets and photographing the sunset celebration. The main drag, Duval St., has changed a lot but the city is still the funky, laid back place I remember from the late 70's. I rented a bike and rode around the whole island many times. Key West is only 14 blocks from the Atlantic Ocean to the Gulf of Mexico. In between there are lots of shops, restaurants, and conch houses. My biggest surprise was to find out how expensive it has gotten there; nearly 1.4 million for a small house. Paradise is now just for the rich. While I was there I met up with a couple people I have not seen for 30-35 years. The first was Ben Harrison. He was the musician at the bar I worked at called The Patio on Front St. He sang Jimmy Buffet style and wrote a lot of his own music. We became Facebook friends a couple years ago so I kind of knew where to find him. I brought the album that he autographed for me in 1981 to his house and showed his son, who answered the door. Ben and I had a great reunion. He is still singing away and gave me 3 of his recent CDs. Second I saw Will, one of the entertainers at the Sunset Celebration. In 1978 there were only a handful of people who went to see the sunset and only a few entertainers to entertain them. Will DeSoto was one of the jugglers. I always remembered his face and when I saw him again I yelled out his name. He did not remember me but we still hugged and kissed like we were long lost friends. Will still juggles, but he juggles knives, torches all while being on a trapeze. And he is 70 years old!!! I carried two cameras with me during the entire trip, just like in Cuba. I was able to capture a lot of street photography. I am not so apprehensive about taking people's pictures anymore. My one-liner is "What's your story?" Once people find out that you are genuinely interested in them, they warm up and relax and let you take their picture. At the Hemingway House I asked one the painters if I could photograph him. He was reluctant until I told him he has pretty blue eyes. I had my cameras with me on the rental bike also. One morning very early I rode through Bahama Village (called Black Town in the 70's). As I was riding I saw a woman sitting down in front of her Conch House. She said hello to me and after a few blocks down the road, I realized I had to go back and talk to her. She told me her story about her cancer which caused her disfigured face. The best part of her story was her joy in telling me that her cancer was gone. When I asked her how old she was she said 64. I replied "that is how old I am." She was shocked that we were the same age. Maybe that is why I stopped to photograph her. She said she was born and raised in Key West and the only time she got to leave was to have her cancer surgery in Miami. We chatted for a few more minutes and then I was on my way. There are many more "what's your story" photographs that I took that long weekend. I stayed at a lovely hotel called The Gardens owned by a woman who purchased it about 20 years ago. Before she owned it, Peggy Mills owned it and you could go there to tour the lush grounds. I remember going there in 1979 and meeting Peggy. Kate, the new owner, sat with her guests every night for Happy Hour and got to know everyone. Many of the guests were repeat customers and said they loved it there. I can see why. It was quiet, beautiful and Happy Hour started at 3PM every day. It was close to everything a very friendly and comfortable place to stay. Traveling has really helped me cope with my grief. It doesn't make me miss Paul any less but it helps me focus on something else besides sadness. Traveling will be part of "my new normal" as I continue with the cycle of grief.
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