I wish I had my camera, but on Veterans Day I spent some time taking pictures with my iphone around the Claremont Resort and Club, the historic hotel where we’re staying. I had to get photos while I could — because an atmospheric river and torrential rain was in the forecast for the rest of our trip.
Two days later it is pouring! I’m at my son’s apartment now and I couldn’t leap over the river that was rushing down the curb by his sidewalk. Now I’ve got soaking wet shoes and socks!
Flag at half mast for Veterans Day.
The hallway to our room. The blue light doesn’t show to the naked eye. I think it’s an effect of blue panels along the wall and the light reflecting on them.
Views of San Francisco from the resort.
Views of the Golden Gate Bridge.
The lobby.
Looking from a balcony on the Lobby level towards the tennis courts.
Another city view.
A view of the hotel.
The Club — gym, swimming pool, jacuzzi, steam room — can be found at the building in the background. The Club has memberships for local residents for tennis, swimming and the gym. It even has a youth swim team who practices there.
A view towards the Club from the Lobby.
Where are some of your favorite places to visit and favorite hotels?
I wrote this nine years ago. It’s my most read post to this day. I remember writing it while visiting a high school friend in my home town Snohomish.
I understand how she feels. After all, I was once 19 years old. I remember it very clearly.
Everything my mom did, I found unbelievably annoying.
I’ll never forget sitting with her in the car, getting ready to shop at Bellevue Square. She had parked the car. She was fumbling through her purse, making sure she had what she needed. She reapplied her lipstick. Dug through her purse for her wallet to look through credit cards. Searched several times to check where she placed the keys.
Mom and me in the early 90s. I lost her to COVID in January 2023.
Would we never leave the car? Would I be stuck all day? I must have said something to her quite snippy, or flat out mean. A few tears rolled down her cheeks. Which made me more upset with her.
Isn’t it a sad feeling, transitioning from a mom who could do no wrong—from changing diapers, to cooking their favorite spaghetti, to taping treasured colorings on the fridge that were made just for you—to being the person of their abject disdain?
It’s a tough new role. Let me tell you.
But, having gone through these feelings myself, I understand. I’m visiting my mom this week in her assisted living center. I talked about it with her, what I’m going through now, and what I felt like when I was 19. Fortunately, she doesn’t remember me ever being a snarky 19-year-old.
For some reason, I’ve gained more patience throughout my life and that has been a blessing. I’ve also learned forgiveness.
My baby girl years ago.
Something else, I’ve learned through the years of parenting: this too shall pass.
It’s called independence and freedom. We want our children to grow and become separate human beings that can stand on their own. Sometimes they need to separate from us. A good time to do that is during their senior year of high school, or their freshman year of college. It’s a good thing. I keep telling myself that.
However, we also want to be treated with respect, and once again—someday—to be cherished.
A beach day with my daughter.
I wrote more about separating from our kids and the experiences we go through when they leave for college HERE.
I miss my mom. So much.
Why do you think some posts are discovered and read throughout the years, while others are not?
Do you think when people close to us are going through rough times, it’s easy for them to take it out on those closest to them?
Happy birthday to my daughter! Yes, I miss her, but I’m happy she’s living near my son and DIL, has her pug Waffles and a job she enjoys.
I wrote this when we dropped our daughter off at college several years ago. Now that she’s living in the adult world — I still miss these things about her. We were lucky to have her sheltering in place with us for a couple of months. That was one of the good things that happened in 2020 — not COVID-19 and being locked down — but getting the chance to spend time together.
Kat at Carpinteria State Beach on a camping trip.
We took our daughter to college two weeks ago. She looks really happy in the photos posted on FB and Instagram. She’s made new friends, is enjoying her team and coaches — and likes her classes.
My life is busy with new and old projects. But, I notice a quiet, a sort of waiting sense, that I didn’t feel before. It’s the little things about her that I miss.
Kat swimming
I miss her cracking my back. She would give me a hug, tell me to relax and say, “One, two..” and lift me up in the air before she said three. The result was cracking, popping relief.
I miss her making me laugh. Kat is funny. I love her little half smile when she knows she’s especially clever. And the crinkles around her eyes when she laughs out loud.
I miss her cleaning out my wallet and organizing it for me. She’d say, “Mom your purse is a gateway to hoarding.”
I miss her walking through the kitchen door after her morning workout asking me to make her eggs. I don’t have anyone to make eggs for right now — except my husband and me — and we rarely eat them.
I miss her cat Olive walking on the skinny end of her four poster bed while she watched Netflix on my laptop.
Baby Olive
I miss when she was very young and called yellow “lallo.” When we’d go to the beach, she’d strip naked as soon as her suit got wet. I used to bring a bag full of swimsuits for her.
Kat in a dry suit at the beach with big brother Robert.
I miss going to the pool and watching practice, chatting with the other swim parents. That was a luxury that I took for granted.
Yes, I miss her and I hope she knows how much I love her. Happy birthday!
Kat making an entrance into the room.
What are the little things you miss the most about your kids who have left home — or friends you no longer see very often?
A cup of lemonade I bought on our morning walk. I did take one sip, before I took the photo. I have to say it wasn’t a generous serving!
We have friendly neighbors who apparently have an abundance of fresh lemons. Note to self: I need to plant a lemon tree! In Palm Springs we had 15 citrus trees and we have none here.
On our morning walk, we passed the friendly neighbor’s house spotting a young boy sitting outside, alone at a folding table, with a hand painted sign, “Lemonade.”
We asked how long he’d be there and he said another hour and a half. It was 6:30 a.m. I wonder how early he set up his stand?
“We’ll be back after our walk,” my husband promised.
This is a grandchild of our neighbors. We first met them when their grandkids were visiting at Christmas the year we moved in. They had a lemonade stand then, and we thought it was so sweet. It brought back memories of my childhood when we had a Kool-aid stand.
We haven’t seen these neighbors since December 2020 until sometime in April this year when we were out for a walk. We stopped and talked and talked about our kids, who all live in California. They told us about their grandkids and asked if we wanted to go to church with them. The husband promised us his homemade limoncello.
Again we haven’t seen them around. I believe the husband works a lot throughout the country and is rarely home.
Then last week, the day before we left for Mexico, we saw him in his garage.
He said, “Wait!”
He ran to get us two bottles of limoncello. We declined, but he said, “Please take them. I don’t drink, but I like to make it.”
This morning after our walk, I returned to the lemonade stand.
“You’re certainly out early,” I said.
“I try to do my best,” the young boy answered.
“What are you going to do with all this money?” I asked.
“Half goes to charity. I’m not sure yet what I’ll do with the rest.”
I gave him money for two lemonades. He asked what color cups I wanted and poured me a few inches of lemonade in each cup.
It gave me a bit of joy to see a child working his lemonade stand. It’s a rare sight indeed.
What are your memories of lemonade stands growing up? Do you see them today?
I’ve been fortunate to have two quick visits by my kids. They called my husband and asked what he wanted for Father’s Day. He said he wanted to see them.
My daughter’s visit was fun because she had a few days off and we got to spend a lot of time together. It’s been great to have my son here, too, but he works remotely so we only had evenings free to talk and hang out.
Both kids wanted my home cooking rather than going out. That made me smile. It made me mom proud.
I enjoyed watching my son work remotely. He wears a headset and stands while working on his computer. He’s either typing away furiously or conducting meetings, laughing, talking and smiling. He works nonstop from 8 a,m. until the evening when he finishes up with his last meeting.
I’m very proud of the adult he’s become and how hard working he is. Also, it seems this is a job he really enjoys.
Now that they’re gone I’m a bit sad, but happy that they are living their lives.
It’s back to me, my husband and Olive the cat.
What are you doing for Father’s Day?
Olive giving me that look before she jumps in my lap.
My husband asked me to sit and watch a webinar with him yesterday. It was CE credits for him, but he thought I’d find the subject interesting. Begrudgingly, I sat with him. Surprisingly, there were a few tidbits that I found helpful.
The topic was about what makes people happy in retirement. Number one was not being stressed about money. At a certain point, when you aren’t worrying about outliving your money, more money doesn’t improve happiness. Good health is another key item.
I was surprised that friendships were near the top of the list. When people leave the workplace, they often give up their daily social interactions. I thought about this because it’s something I’m dealing with now. Since the pandemic and moving to Arizona, I don’t have the day-to-day interactions with people that I had before. Of course, I lived in California for three decades in the same house, so I had it wired. I had the swim team, women’s club, my kids’ school parents, etc. I stayed in touch with people I worked with years before and we still got together. I knew the postman, the grocery clerk and countless other people.
Moving to a new state and neighborhood, we were lucky to discover friends from Palm Springs who moved a mile away from our new home. It’s refreshing to get a last minute call and be invited over for football or dinner. And we reciprocate.
My husband had one of his closest friends two miles down the road. They were friends from their 20s and we got together every week or two since we moved. But my husband’s friend died suddenly in November from an illnesses that was not COVID. Watching the webinar, my husband muttered a few words about missing his friend.
I haven’t thought much about needing friends or a social life. I’m pretty content to sit at home and watch the birds. Sit outside and read. I didn’t really view myself as a people person. This webinar made me think about the years ahead.
It’s hard to make new friends when you’re older, not in a work environment and in a new state. The webinar convinced me to join book club, which I’ve never done before. I had gotten an invitation earlier that day. It was a sign that yes, I’d better give it a try.
Here is what I found really fascinating about the webinar: most people facing retirement think living close to their children will make them happy. In reality it doesn’t bump the needle like friendships do. It’s not even close.
What do you think will make you happy in retirement? Why do you think living close to your children doesn’t make retirees as happy as social friends?
My kids with Angus more than 10 years ago. When they were young and I worried about other things.
A little over a year ago, I wrote this post. It was during the lockdown and I was in high amped worry mode. I was extremely anxious about my daughter who was laid off and was frustrated because her unemployment was on hold — along with 1.5 million other Californians who were lost in the system. She wrote to her assemblywomen, senators, governor, etc. but nobody helped. She’d call everyday to the EDD and nobody answered the phone. They had an 8 a.m. to noon window where they would accept calls. The one time she got through, the person said they were hired to answer the phone but couldn’t access the system. To this day she is still owed thousands of dollars from 2020. I’m going off track, but here’s what I wrote in October 2020:
I read a fascinating story that said “Study Confirms That Parents Still Lose Sleep Worrying About Their Adult Children.” I am definitely on of those parents who loses sleep and I know my dear friend Gabby, who shared this story on Facebook is one, also.
Even before our children are born, we worry about them. We’re relieved when we count the 10 fingers and 10 toes in the hospital, but we still worry. We’re relieved when they do well on their tests in school and make the team, but we still worry. We worry about safety, about their grades, about what they’ll do for a career, about who they’ll one day marry or if they’ll get married at all. The list of things to worry about feels endless.
We hope that our worries will ease as our children get older, but it turns out that’s not the case.
A photo from our beach vacation two years ago.
Can you relate to this as a parent, too? On my current list of worries is the bad air quality from California fires, my kids driving through the Cyclone Bomb weather, which is a rare event with high winds, rain and even snow, plus their general safety living in the Bay Area. I worry that they are secure in their careers and find their work satisfying and are able to make a living.
Here’s more from the story about parents who worry about adult kids:
A recent study conducted by Amber J. Seidel of Pennsylvania State University confirms what many parents already know – you never stop worrying about your children. Her study went on to show that parents actually lose sleep worrying about their adult children.
Parents, it looks like we’ll be worrying forever. If your children are already adults, you may already know that to be true.
In Seidel’s study, 186 heterosexual married couples with adult children were surveyed. On a scale of 1 to 8, they were asked how much assistance they offer their children. Assistance could include financial, emotional or even chatting on the phone. Choosing 1 meant daily assistance and interaction where 8 was only once a year.
The parents were also asked to choose from 1 to 5 regarding stress. In this case, choosing 1 meant no stress, and 5 meant the maximum amount of stress.
The third thing these parents tracked was how much sleep they got at night. Moms got an average of 6.66 hours and dads got slightly more with an average of 6.69 hours.
The results were not the same for moms and dads. For moms, it didn’t matter if they were the ones offering assistance or if their husbands were the ones offering assistance; moms were stressed out and sleeping less either way.
Dads showed a lack of sleep and more stress only when they were the ones offering assistance to their adult children. If their wife offered assistance, it didn’t affect them. This either means that dads are not affected in the same way as moms or that the wives weren’t telling their husbands about the assistance causing the dads to be stress free due to lack of knowledge about the situation.
I found it interesting that the dads didn’t lose sleep if their wives were the ones offering support. Or, like the article said, maybe they weren’t aware of what was going on. But the moms lost sleep regardless who was the main person offering support to their kids.
Do you worry about your children too, regardless of their age? What do you worry about most?
A more recent photo in our old back yard with Waffles the pug.
