Letter To My Grandmother

16 May 2020

Dear Oma,

Today I sat in a high-backed arm chair with my feet on a footstool and thought of you. A little sausage of a dog squashed himself into the space next to me and I thought of you. I was working on a crocheted blanket and, even though you preferred knitting, I thought of you because we were both lovingly crafting things with yarn. So much of you was in that moment of mine that I could feel you there as if you’d never left.

In that same moment I went back in time and found myself in your living room, watching you do the exact thing I found myself doing now. Watching you in your orange chair, like a queen on a throne, with your feet up, vigorously clicking your needles as you created the next cardigan or the next pair of socks. Casje, your little brown dachshund, squashed next to you in the chair in a way that defied physics and comfort, would be snoring softly.

Two ghosts: you in my living room and me in yours. Do we feel haunted by people because they left such a big mark on who we are that a part of them stays with us forever?

We lived together in your house for three years. I don’t remember very many specific conversations that we had, though we must have spoken every day. What I do remember is little snippets, like flashes, of you in the kitchen, stirring soup or sitting at the table smoking a cigarette. I remember how it felt to sit at the table in the kitchen, all five of us eating dinner. Me and mom on one side, you on the other facing us. Dad at the head of the table, where Opa used to sit, and Jenn at the other end by the window. I don’t even have to close my eyes and I’m there. I can feel the tablecloth under my arms. I can trace the lines of the pattern on the plates. If I look out the window I know exactly how much of the garden is visible.

I dream about your house a lot. The kitchen, mostly. I wonder if that’s because you once told me about a dream you had about Opa, not long after he died. You said you were in the kitchen together and he was reading the paper, like he always did, and you were doing something at the counter. Just being together, like you always were. Then you said to him that you wished it could always be like this and he said, “You know it can’t, silly.” I dream about that kitchen a lot. We sit at the table, drinking tea. Funny where your brain goes when you’re not awake to interfere.

You used to love “your” birds. You had feeders in the garden and you’d watch them from the kitchen window. You saved a nest of pigeon chicks once. They followed you around like you were their mom. I never understood your love of birds. I thought they looked pointy and sharp and they were never going to have as much personality as a dog or a cat would. In the last eight years I’ve completely come around, though. I’m a bird lady now. I feed the crows, magpies and jackdaws in my neighbourhood peanuts when I walk the dogs. It started with one crow that used to hop along with us whenever he saw us. I still don’t know what made him do it but after seeing him a few times I thought I’d bring along a peanut or two for him. One crow quickly became two, then more. Not long after the magpies and jackdaws worked out there was food to be had from the lady with the two little dogs and the big purple scarf. Now they even recognize me without the dogs or the scarf. It makes me happy because it makes me feel closer to you.

Your most recent haunting has come in the form of gardening. Yes, even though I live in an apartment, I am cultivating a little garden here. I used to joke that plants came to me to die. I’ve managed a couple of tragic cacti deaths (did you know you can give them too much water? I did not until I did) and the little balcony box my mom made for me with the plants already put in didn’t last long, either. Ever hopeful, I once joined an urban street forest project and they delivered a “very hardy tree” for my balcony. The aim was to make the side of the building greener by giving free trees to the residents. My tree did not make it, I’m afraid. One hot summer and I completely forgot it was out there and didn’t water it. So sorry, tree, I still feel guilty for what happened to you.

Your garden was the envy of all of your neighbours. A riot of colours, with a darling little pond, a swing and a trampoline, all bordered by guardian trees. Your green thumb was magic. I imagine it must have been you that possessed me a couple of years ago when I saw some seeds in the store and impulsively bought them. Self-doubt made me hesitate to plant them right away and they stayed hidden away until recently when I thought “let’s give this a go”. I think that was you popping up again. Now I natter away cheerfully to my seedlings; the daisies and forget-me-nots and the mix of wild flowers I’ve planted. I gently beg the little lavender sprouts to hang in there as they aren’t looking terribly robust. I am determined to keep them alive because you had a giant lavender bush in your front yard and I loved it. I whisper words of encouragement to the succulents and cacti I’ve added to the mix, complimenting their hardy nature. Yes, I’m trying my hand at cacti again. Two are looking really good. I’m a little worried about the third. He gets extra encouragement each morning.

It’s all the you coming out in me. I used to think we didn’t have much in common. I didn’t really understand you and, though I loved you dearly, I didn’t really think I knew you very well. I’m delighted to discover that nothing could be farther from the truth. I wonder if your absolute horror at the thought of being in crowds of people was from the same frustration and anxiety that I feel in crowds. I wonder if yours came from the warped perception of space and time that ADHD gives me. I wonder if the compulsive and repetitive rhythm of knitting was your version of stimming just like the repetition of crochet is mine. I wonder if you chose Opa because of his quiet, dependable nature in much the same way I rely on Dan to be an oasis of peace in my chaotic mind.

You told me often that you always resented having to leave school to help on your family’s farm. You loved school and were good at it. You still had your report card with your excellent grade for religion and writing. You told me and my sister over and over again to make sure we had the education and means to be independent. To never have to rely on anyone else for our survival. Well, I’m a teacher now and I’m good at it. Where you had to leave school, I never left.

When I got my first real boyfriend, you were the one who cheerfully (and cheekily) announced at the dinner table that you thought it was time I started taking the Pill. The very next day mom made an appointment to arrange it.

When my sister and I came home with our first tattoos, you were the one who broke the tension by noting that the design was based on a ring that had been passed down in her family and you thought it was quite pretty.

You were determined that you did not want to go to a retirement home. You did not want to live to see the ten year anniversary of Opa’s death and you wanted to die in your beloved garden. I wasn’t the least bit surprised that you got your way on all three matters.

Dear Oma, it’s been eighteen years since Opa came to take you home and I miss you very much. More and more each day, though, I am discovering that you’re not as far away as I thought.

I love you,

Your granddaughter, Jo

 

“I am a thousand winds that blow”

Dear Zephyr,

Today we laid your body, your mortal mode of transport, to rest. It’s the first funeral I have ever been to where I felt, long beforehand, that I had already completely said goodbye. We had the most beautiful, sunny September day for it, though. Not a cloud in the sky and no hint of rain. Just sunshine and warmth. So much warmth.

This was perfect because it is how I remember my wealth of time with you. I was one of the lucky few who had the privilege of being part of your short life here on Earth. I was one of the ones who was allowed to learn from you.

I’ll tell you a secret, that I’m sure won’t be a secret to you, Zeph; I didn’t really like you at first. It’s funny to think about now, given how far we’ve come, but at the same time I know the feeling was completely mutual. I also know that we’re both cool with that now. People change and people grow and there should totally be room for that in our lives.

I think back on those early days when I would come over to visit your mom (not you) and you would kick up a fuss every single time I was about three quarters of the way through a sentence or story; right at a pivotal moment or just as I was about to get to the point, without fail, you would loudly and piercingly demand your mother’s attention. Every goddamn time. You would also make sure that you didn’t even look in my direction when you did it. As if to let me know it wasn’t even worth your time to rub it in that my thunder was being stolen. Because it would be. Every time. And we both knew it. You were highly effective.

At the time I thought your mother was coddling you, spoiling you, and should have been teaching you better manners. I know better now. Even before you got hit with the Tumor Stick, your mom was looking out for your quality of life. She was leagues ahead of all of the latest and trendiest articles and studies about how you can’t “spoil” your child by loving them and giving them attention. As it happens, giving your child security seems to make children less anxious and better able to deal with failure. She just knew, your mom, as she has instinctively known so many things as long as I have known her, what would be best for you.

It was precisely because you had this unconditional love and attention that you were free to be yourself. You were free to enjoy every part of your life and feel all of the emotions that you wanted to feel, without judgement or shame. This freedom made you open and wise, confident and empathetic. You had the capacity for generosity and compassion, curiosity and observation. The confidence you felt from growing up with unconditional love and lack of harsh criticism meant that you approached new situations with openness and enthusiasm rather than fear and distrust. You grew up believing that the world was yours to discover and love, and that was also true for everyone else you met along the way. The world was ours to share. That is a rare and precious gift, Zephyr, and I am so grateful I got to experience it through you.

I’m not sure when things changed, exactly, between you and I, but we definitely moved on from studiously ignoring each other straight to enthusiastic greetings. There was no middle ground. It went from blatant, passive-aggressive ignoring each other to O.T.T. happy hellos from one day to the next. I walked in and your mom said, “Look Zephie, Jo is here!” and you ran in with your signature big smile (heretofore denied me) and I got a wholly spontaneous hug. Which, naturally, meant that my cold, hard, child-hating heart melted like a Snow Queen’s cursed shard of glass. There was no resisting full-on Zephyr charm. From that moment, I was hooked.

Here’s the thing, Zeph, I could not resist your smile. It was so open and inviting and genuine that I was no match for it. Your smile was always bubbling beneath the surface. You were constantly looking for reasons to be happy or to laugh. You found joy in everything. Even when things were surely unbearable for you, you found something to laugh about. Your throaty chuckle is one of my fondest memories, it’s a sound I will always carry with me. And I have many examples of it.

You especially enjoyed a good fart joke. What five year old doesn’t? Burp jokes were also a hit. You loved hearing about how things went wrong for me (you never did entirely let go of our initial feud, no matter how cozy we got afterward), and you loved hearing stories about your mom from when we were young and foolish. Maybe that’s why you finally let me in; you knew I had the goods on your mommy and I was willing to spill for a little Z-charm.

My favorite memories of you are when I would come over and it was quiet (ie. no other people visiting) and your mom would take that time to shower or go to the store and you and I would have a few stolen moments together. Sometimes we’d just chill out in silence, me working on your blanket or you watching train videos on YouTube, but other times I’d tell you stories. Stories about when I first met your mommy and what we were like. Stories about your mom going on daring adventures across the globe and how much I admired her for it. Stories about your mom getting me (ME!) onto a bus for 22 hours to go to a festival in Budapest that barely had a sign in English (or any other language I understood) but the beer was 70 cents so how could we not? (not that we drank beer, Zeph, of course not! -winkwinknudgenudge-) Stories about how your mom and I were there for each other on many occasions but how we also let each other down. Stories about how we found each other again and how that made things even better. I told you all of those stories and every now and then there would be a hearty chuckle from somewhere around my shoulder, where your head would be resting, or your hand would find mine and we’d sit there like that for a bit.

Those moments, those little pockets of time, are the most precious thing to me now, Zeph. That little boy who couldn’t stand me was voluntarily leaning in closer to hear more, trusting me to tell him all the good stuff, laughing when I told it just right; – and that’s priceless.

I am so grateful that I lived close enough to be such a big part of your life. I got to go hear classical music with you, see art with you, hang out in the park with you. I met your friends and I met so many of your mom’s friends through you. I dressed as a bat, I conducted trains, I sang songs (badly) and I read stories – at your instruction. You cooked me food in your kitchen and you were patient enough to fill me in on all the rules for whatever game we were playing. You would sit as close to me as you could get and share your real food; a huge honor, because food was very important to you. You would spontaneously take my hand. Once when we were parting ways after meeting in town you cried when I didn’t say goodbye properly. It had to be with a kiss and a hug.

That was one of my favorite rituals, moreso as your ability to speak left you; the one where I would ask you if you wanted a kiss, and you would nod. Then I’d ask you where you wanted it, and you would point to your cheek or your forehead. And that’s where I would plant a big smacker and you’d give me the biggest smile. You found satisfaction in the smallest (biggest) things. The last time I saw you I couldn’t ask you where you wanted your kiss, so I hope the one you got on your forehead was just right.

Last Sunday, right after you had your first seizure, the one that marked the end, I snuggled up next to you to whisper in your ear. I promised that I would keep all of the things you taught me close to my heart. I promised I would remember your laugh and the wicked little twinkle in your eye. I promised I would make sure that your mom was getting all her fruits and vegetables, taking care of herself, and I promised that she would never be alone. I thanked you for making her so happy and told you that I would try to make sure she kept hold of that, and I told you it was okay to let go. You’d taught me, and so many others, enough and we could take it from here.

Zephyr, I don’t know if I completely believe in reincarnation or past lives or old souls or whatever you want to call it, but I do know that you were not an ordinary 5 year old. To me, with no hyperbole or exaggeration, you knew more than you should for someone your age. You had a natural ability to reassure and comfort, to see, to experience and to enjoy. Your patience when it came to your treatments and limitations far exceeded your years. There was a wisdom and a resolution there that couldn’t be explained but seemed completely natural. We all took it for granted at one time or another but everyone comments on it now that you’re gone; you had a tenacity that wasn’t entirely explicable.

On this, the day of your funeral, my overwhelming feeling is gratitude. I am grateful that I was able to learn from you, to get to know you, to care for you and to be a part of your journey. I am completely undone by the loss of you and I don’t know how anything will ever shine again, but at the same time I know it’ll be okay. I feel like we’ll meet again somewhere. That you’ll teach me more. As cheesy as it sounds, I think you were here to give rather than receive. You gave us so much and I hope we gave back even a fraction. In any case, you left this mortal coil feeling nothing but love.

You were loved, Zephyr. You were loved so much and you will be loved until the last of us leaves this world to join you in yours.

Bon voyage, spaceman, with a big, fat kiss on your cherub cheek and an extra, sneaky one for your forehead.

Your Jo x

Zephyr (n) – a light wind or west wind, a soft, gentle breeze

Step Into The Spring

The beginning of February marks Imbolc, a Celtic festival marking the transition from winter to spring; crone to maiden. It’s a Sabbat of purification; a spring cleaning, if you will. If you need to look into the future or past, now is an ideal time.

These days I find myself looking around at everything as though I have stepped out of a cave and into direct sunlight. Blinking and rubbing my eyes and trying to make sense of the shapes and landmarks around me. Things have shifted and moved, some have settled, some have not. Some things are still reassuringly familiar and others are new and curious, waiting to be discovered. Things I thought I knew are now cast in a new light, which also changes their shadows which, in turn, is forcing me to re-examine them.

For me, looking to the past primarily means looking at the past year. Things I had previously taken for granted have morphed, some things have disappeared entirely. New things have taken their place and things I had previously neglected have been brought to the forefront again.

One such thing is my relationship with my little sister. We have always had a very close connection, even for sisters. When we moved to Holland we didn’t know anyone else and were thrust into each other’s (initially unwilling) company. Set adrift with only each other to rely on we changed from virtual strangers, who happened to share a home together, into best friends. That close relationship had waned somewhat in the last few years and we’d grown apart in a lot of ways. Distance and vastly different life experiences creating misunderstandings and contempt. Recently we’ve found our way back to each other and, though we are in the early stages of redefining our closeness again, it’s getting back to the familiar territory I had taken for granted for so long while at the same time, through age and how we’ve both changed in the meantime, it’s becoming something new.

 

I had also started to take my personality for granted. I know, that might sound a bit odd. What I mean is that I took my identity for granted. Familiar but fixed, maybe even rusted, into place. There are some things that I have considered quintessentially me. Things that I have come to consider definitive traits, inextricable from who I am as a person. In reality, these things are actually habits more than they are character traits and could easily be changed if I wanted to change them. This spring, I am shining a new light on some of my self-identifiers and asking myself if it’s really who I am or if it’s who I’ve become used to being.

Seeds of change have been planted and I am eager to discover what germinates and grows.

A frivolous example is the one about shoes. I used to be known for owning all sorts of pretty pairs of high heels. I had over 60 pairs of very pretty, very high, immensely impractical heels. Most of which I hardly ever (sometimes never) wore because they were painful after a few minutes as they were either slightly too big or slightly too small and definitely too high. Nevertheless, you couldn’t go on a shopping spree with me without having to fish me out of shoe shops and I would invariably buy “just one more” pair. I can’t even remember the last pair of heels I bought but I more than likely don’t even own them anymore. Now I’m all about boots. Comfort. Faux leather. Big, biker boots in black or brown. I not only buy them but I wear them until they fall apart. Very different from the many, colourful pairs of heels I had decorating my spare room that hardly ever saw the light of day. But it’s still me. Both shoe lovers are still me.

I used to be able to finish off a bottle of wine in one sitting. Usually every night, if I’m honest. I’d have a mild panic attack if there wasn’t “enough” in the house. This last year I have spent most evenings without even a drop. I’m not tee-totalling, but the wine memes certainly don’t describe me anymore. I used to identify as a wine drinker when I was being kindest to myself and an alcoholic when I was a bit more critical. I had made many attempts in the past to cut out my dependency on alcohol but something in me shifted this last year and it just clicked and happened. I wish I could be more helpful than that for anyone seeking to cut the ties themselves.

More interestingly is the fact that my proudest identifier, the thing I really considered to describe me to my core, is something I have been questioning most these days. How much does the word “teacher” still describe me? I used to list it as one of the first things when describing myself and now I’m not so sure I even want to keep doing it. It used to be the thing I considered the very essence of me. I was born to do it. It was a calling. I’m a natural and I enjoy it. That saying “do something you love and you will never work a day of your life” was completely true for me. To a certain extent it still is. But is it who I am or is it what I do? Is it what I want to be doing? If I’m not a teacher, then what am I? Live to work or work to live? If I’m not a teacher, what’s keeping me here in Holland? If I didn’t live here, where would I go? How much of how I see myself determines where I am in the world?

I’m closely examining my other identifiers to see if any of those offer me more insight. Do any of the other habits I have or things I enjoy offer me a new occupation? I’m 40 years old, what am I doing about broadening my horizons? What am I learning? How am  I growing as a person? Am I okay with keeping to my habits or do I want to challenge myself with something new? Is all of this just a mid-life crisis in disguise? And are mid-life crises necessarily a bad thing?

Imbolc is a great time for initiations. What new covenant am I going to enter into with myself? What fresh path am I going to venture down? I think it’s time to dust off the dark and enter into a new turning of the wheel. It certainly feels like I am throwing off something heavy and entering into the light and that’s definitely a sign I shouldn’t ignore.

For now I am going to rub my eyes, adjust to the light and get a better lay of the land before setting out to chart this new territory of me.

xJI

A Year of Dan & Jo: December

January 1st, 2018: Full circle

In a blink, the year flew by. A year ago I opened my front door and everything changed. It feels like yesterday. I am so glad we managed to be together to mark the occasion.

December started out with my sister asking me to join her on a Very Important Day later in the month. It would be the day after Dan arrived and she was worried that would be a problem as we had so little time with each other. I told her that if Dan had a problem with me spending the day with my sister when she needed me then he wasn’t as fabulous as I thought. As such, I was not surprised when he told me it wasn’t a problem at all and I didn’t need his permission to go. I offered to walk the dogs before I left so he could sleep in and he said that really wasn’t necessary; he’d walk the dogs after I was gone so that I could get ready in peace. You see, he’s a keeper for a reason.

It was still a good three weeks before he was due to arrive and the time flew by as it was full of year-end things at work and some lovely visits with friends old and new in between. My friend Larissa and I planned to visit Paleis Soestdijk before it closed to the public for good on the 20th only to get to Soest and realise that it was closed on Wednesdays. Oops. We had a lovely lunch at Grand Café de Lindenhof and wandered around the shopping street for a bit before heading home again. There wouldn’t be many more chances to see the palace anymore before the new year and it looked like it would be a missed opportunity for me as I simply didn’t have the time before Dan arrived.

I had so many things to do that before I could even fully wrap all the gifts, Christmas was here and at the same time, Dan’s birthday. I had sent him his birthday gift in the mail and he’d be getting his Christmas presents from me here in Amsterdam two days later. I really wanted to keep the two things separate.

I went to my parents’ house on Christmas Eve and spent Christmas Day and some of Boxing Day with them. I messaged Dan a lot and on Boxing Day he sent me updates from his house as there were lots of people over to visit and be merry. I got text updates from Vicky with pictures of Dan looking cute. I also got a picture of the present she and Jonny had brought for me that didn’t fit into Dan’s overstuffed suitcase anymore. It was nice to feel like I was there a bit, even though I wasn’t.

Dan’s flight landed early in the morning on the 27th and it felt like it took ages for him to come through the doors at arrivals. We have a running joke that the plane lands in Belgium and you taxi from there. It really felt like it last Wednesday! Once he was finally through we quickly headed to my house (in the rain) and passed the time waiting for the IKEA delivery guys to bring me my new bed by giving each other our Christmas gifts. I had sent Dan a list of things that I would like to have and he took it for a check list. He got me so many lovely and thoughtful little things that I’ve lost count. The highlights were little pillows with the dogs and his face on them, a picture of the both of us that he made into a painting and a little heart charm for my charm bracelet but that’s nowhere near all the treasure I got.

The dogs model their pillow counterparts and my picture-painting

My bed arrived quite early and we had it put together in no time. Just like with the tent last August, we displayed some excellent team work. And it was fun, too 🙂

Building the bed with dog supervision

The finished product, complete with fairy lights

After bed construction we headed down to the supermarket to get some supplies (in the rain) and then settled down to watch the last three episodes in season three of Black Mirror. Then we took the old mattresses down to the collection spot, ready for the pick up the next day.   By the time we fell into the new bed it felt like he’d already been here for two days because we’d been on the  move so much.

On Thursday I went to Nijmegen with my sister and Dan was left home alone in charge of the dogs and cats and keeping me posted on how they were all missing me. Dan already knew the whole dog walking routine from when he was over last April and was taking care of me after surgery. I knew my animals were in good hands and now Dan got a taste of what it was like for me to be bored at home while he was out. I didn’t get home again until quite a bit later than I thought I would but, thanks to technology, I had already ordered take out on my phone from the comfort of the train and it was there waiting for me as I walked through the door to two very excited dogs, two indifferent cats and a very smiley Dan. It had been quite a long day so we didn’t stay up much later than it took us to eat dinner. We were only on Day 2 of his visit and we’d already packed in quite a lot.

On Friday the 29th of December Dan, Larissa and I made another attempt to visit Paleis Soestdijk together. I’d bought Dan a ticket online after realising that it really was a last chance opportunity and it would be a shame to miss out. We drove out to Soest, had lunch at Grand Café de Lindenhof again (it really is very good) and then drove out to the palace together. It started raining as we were walking towards the entrance and it suddenly got very cold. Then it started snowing a bit. In the palace we got stuck behind a very slow and very long tour but we did get to see everything and took loads of pictures. It was a really lovely visit and I’m glad we went. It stopped raining on the way home.

Paleis Soestdijk

Palace selfie

Once we were home I made us some chicken and veg in the oven and we settled down to watch the first two episodes of the new season of Black Mirror. For anyone not watching yet, get on it! It’s a corker of a TV show.

We planned to have a lazy day on Saturday to balance out all of our previous activity but that didn’t really happen. We did the unthinkable and went to a supermarket on the second last day of the year and that took up quite a bit of time (in the rain). We bought groceries for New Year’s Eve and gifts from Dan for my family. We did some tidying up and getting ready for the trip out to my parents the next day. Once all those things were done we did manage to settle down for a bit and watch more Black Mirror while I crocheted a shawl for Dan’s mom. We finished the whole season and then watched Honey, I Shrunk the Kids.

The next day it was the last day of the year and exactly a year after I met Dan for the first time. Had you asked me then what I thought December 31, 2017 would bring me, waking up in Dan’s arms wouldn’t have made the list. Tiny little things can completely change the course of your life and anything going differently on our timeline would probably have meant we never would have met. That first night in 2016 I dreamt about Dan. I dreamt that I really wanted to kiss him. I didn’t tell him that until quite a few months later but it’s funny thinking back on that now. At the time I thought it was amusing but not much more than that. That first night he dreamt about me, too.

We spent Sunday morning packing up all of the drinks, presents and overnight things we would need for New Year’s Eve away from home. We hit the road at around 4.30 and the entire drive we got absolutely hosed on. The rain came down so heavily at one point that the wipers couldn’t keep up. We arrived an hour later, well before the rest of the guests were due and settled down on the couch. My mom had made another amazing buffet spread and we sat in the living room enjoying all the little bits and bites and listening to the radio while we chatted about all sorts of things. The rest didn’t arrive until around 10pm and then, with 8 extra people, we got ready to ring in the new year.

At midnight Dan and I exchanged last year’s chaste kiss with a proper one and then headed outside to watch Ede light up the sky with a ridiculous amount of fireworks. Thankfully the rain had stopped and the temperature was quite mild. My 10 year old niece had a blast with her kiddie fireworks and safety goggles and it was fun to watch everyone in the street happily wish each other all the best in the new year.

With my sister Jenn

When things started to die down, Dan and I walked the dogs one more time (in the rain) and then made our beds on the couch with the dogs. This time, instead of our feet meeting at the corner point, our heads did, and we got to hold hands while we slept. It was the perfect way for us to welcome in the new year, with all of the new adventures and plans we’ve already made for it. We’d come full circle and many things were the same but so many things were different.

I’m unsure if I’ll continue my monthly updates of our long distance relationship on my blog. There’s a real danger of it becoming repetitive but there’s also the journey towards moving in together which might be interesting to put to paper (you know what I mean). I’ll have to give it a think.

I hope you’ve enjoyed reading about our first year together, in any case. It’s been fun to write and the feedback has been overwhelmingly positive.

All the best in 2018. I hope it brings you health, happiness and love.

xJI

A Year of Dan & Jo: January // February // March // April // May // June // July // August // September // October // November x

 

 

A Year of Dan & Jo: October

October was very exciting for me because I got invited to a wedding and I’d never even met the bride or the groom. I got the invite from Dan’s best friend Chrissy and the wedding was right at the beginning of the month.

I took Friday off of work for the wedding and flew to England on Thursday before, right after my last class. All morning flights to Durham had been cancelled due to weather conditions so I was pretty nervous about whether or not my flight would even happen. In the end there weren’t even delays and I was on my way to a weekend of dressing up and celebrating.

Dan picked me up on his way home from work so we could have a few hours together before he had to set off to do best man duties. From what he understood he was meant to help Chrissy through his last night of singledom and, as the joke went, make sure he got to the altar the next day in relatively good shape. We cuddled up in bed and Dan was very reluctant to leave. I would be spending the night in his bed, without him, and driving up to the wedding with his mom the next day. It was going to be weird for both of us for me to be in his room without him. As it got later and later, Chrissy sent more and more messages asking where he was. Dan did a few more dramatic sighs, dragged his feet some more but eventually got out the door and on his way for the hour drive to get to the venue. I spent some time hanging out with his mom before heading to bed and once Dan got there he messaged to let me know there were loads of other guys there and they weren’t even expecting him to show up anymore.

I should probably mention here that Dan is not a fan of weddings. Or wearing suits. Or wearing suits at weddings. Or giving speeches. In a suit. Basically the next day was his version of waking hell and he was grumpy about it. I, on the other hand, was delighted. I love dressing up and seeing other people all dressed up and Dan in a three piece suit was pretty much my hotness ideal (I was not wrong). I was also going to be hanging out with his friends and meeting all the ones I hadn’t met yet. I am not interested in tying the knot myself  but I am more than happy to watch other people do it.

The next day Dan’s mom went to get her hair done and I did battle with mine. Spent nearly an hour straightening it and the wave was already fighting back before we even got in the car. I did manage to work a fascinator into the look, though, so I was quite pleased.

Some pesky road works meant that we went off in the wrong direction and arrived later than we meant to. We still got there in plenty of time due to the sheer brilliance of asking people to show up over an hour before anything got started. We went round to the groom’s little guest house and I met Chrissy who was never in any danger of not showing up for his own wedding. He looked nervous but happy. Dan’s brother and friend Ste had also arrived by that time and we headed to the main building where the other guests were. That’s where I met Jonny and Vicky just as they were walking in. And not long after that I met Bainsey’s wife Gosia.

Waiting for the fun to begin. L-R: Ste, me, Jonny, Vicky & Bainsey

We got called into the hall for the ceremony and found ourselves some seats together in the middle. Dan looked like he was the one with his head on the chopping block and his mom and I both had a little giggle about that. Sarah, the bride, looked gorgeous in a 1950s style dress and the bridesmaids all wore black, floor length gowns. The ceremony itself was non-denominational and short and well punctuated by a well-timed “Oh no!!” from one of the kids present (who was watching a cartoon at the time). Made everyone smile and relax a bit more and it’s a story we’ll probably all be telling forever now.

After the ceremony we went outside for a group photo and then spent some time chatting while they turned the hall we’d just had the ceremony in into the hall we would be eating in. We took lots of pictures in the sunshine and had a drink while we waited.

The picture that made social media think *we* got married.

The meal and speeches were lovely and Dan did very well for someone who would have rather cut off a finger. The tables had shots of Jäger for the guys and perfumey gel stuff for the ladies. I got both because Dan doesn’t drink. In the end Dan kept the nice smelly stuff for his room. The Jäger is still in my freezer.

After the food Ste, Bainsey and I went to the hotel we’d be staying at to check us in while the rest stayed behind and waited for the cake and disco to get set up. Apparently Dan’s remaining friends let him know he found himself a good match right after I left. He looked dead pleased when he told me about it when I got back. So score for me with a full-friend approval rating!

There was a fun photo booth and a candy bar at the party after and we found ourselves a table at the back and waited for the songs the guys had sent in for their disco to get played. Chrissy had asked everyone to send in some song requests and the guys all chose pretty obscure ones. In the end the only one that got played was one of Dan’s: Love Shack by the B52’s. Which the other ladies and I danced to. The guys aren’t big dancers.

As the evening wore on we got silly in the photo booth and took prom-themed pictures in front of one of the white curtains. The guys got a pretty decent group shot, too. Vicky and I hit it off really well and she said it would be lovely if I could make it to her and Jonny’s wedding in November. I said I’d love to and would definitely see if I could make it.

I faded pretty fast waiting for more food, though, and Dan and I called it a night fairly early. We went back to the hotel where I finally got my hands on the handsome guy in the three piece suit. 😉 Which was a lot of fun.

Mr. Hot Stuff

The following morning we decided to go to brunch with the others staying at our hotel: Bainsey, Gosia, Ste and Nicky. We went to the Conservatory at the Hartlepool marina and I got my favourite: a full English breakfast. It was nice to hang out with them again and to get to know Gosia better. It really made me want to make an effort to be at Jonny and Vicky’s wedding to hang out with them again.

After brunch Dan and I went back to his place and watched Moonlight. It wasn’t a great stream and kept getting stuck which made Dan grump and sulk until I made it a game to kiss until it came back. Which ended up making him grump and huff if it sorted itself out too quickly.

Since we had the house to ourselves we also decided to have a bubble bath together just like they do in the movies. We both pretty much figured it would be a big, messy disaster, largely uncomfortable and not sexy at all. We were pleasantly surprised. We got candles and nice smelling bubble gunk and managed to squish ourselves in, only slopping a little water over the side. I think it’s the longest I have ever spent in a bath because I absolutely do not have the patience for that crap normally. This was very fun, though, and it was a whole new kind of intimate.

Sadly I had to fly home again the next day and I had an early flight as that was all that was left when I booked for the wedding. After breakfast together we headed to the airport and, deflated, I went home. This good bye wasn’t too awful, though, because I was coming back to see Dan in my fall break in just under three weeks.

I decided not to go for my entire break because I had been leaving my dogs behind with a good friend of mine a lot this year and felt like I was neglecting them a bit. Add to that the fact that Dan wasn’t getting any time off from work and it meant I would have been spending most of my time waiting for him to come home. So I booked my flight from Wednesday to Sunday and would be arriving at our favourite time slot which meant Dan could pick me up on the way home from work.

It was a bit of a mixed bag visit when I went over. Lots of familiar hanging around, making myself at home while the rest were at work, walking to Asda to buy “stuff and things” and eating all of my favourite comfort foods. By Friday, though, it seemed I had caught the cold Dan had been fighting off earlier in the week and it hit me pretty hard. I had a runny nose and was sneezing all the time. Slept quite badly and couldn’t get comfortable in any measurable way. We had a date night on Friday and my intention was to make it really sexy and fun when we got home but snot and sexy do not make a great team so it turned into an early night and me trying desperately to breathe through my terribly raw nose.

The next morning I was feeling quite a bit more human and Dan made me breakfast. We decided to venture out to Verrill’s for the best fish and chips in the area but, sadly, it didn’t seem to be open so we went for the second best fish and chips. I also got my picture taken with Andy Capp. Once we got home we did some pumpkin carving. I scooped the guts and Dan did the artistic part. The turned out pretty darn cute.

After a full day I was pretty wiped out again so we crawled back into bed and watched Stranger Things 2. If memory serves, I had a good sleep that night and my cold seemed to be dying down.

Sunday was a lovely, lazy day with lots of cuddles and food. Dan’s brother came over and it was all very familiar, emphasis on the family part of familiar. As with every visit, though, the flight home rolled around far too quickly and before I knew it I was waiting for a plane again and this time it was late. Which meant I got home late.

I went to work the next day with a cold that had come back with a vengeance. I managed Tuesday (Halloween) as well but don’t ask me how. Dan and I watched the last few episodes of Stranger Things 2 “together” that night and our trusty “watch Netflix together” app let us down so we had to “press play at the same time” just like in the early days. Which had it’s own charm.

Our visits were spaced out at the beginning and end of the month which made it feel like we were together for most of it, even though we weren’t. I think, after August, October was my favourite month this year.

Until November …

(… to be continued …) xJI

Also in this series: January // February // March // April // May // June // July // August // September

 

A Year of Dan & Jo: April

April was a big month for us. We had our longest visit together to date, I had surgery, we traveled together and I celebrated my 40th birthday.

We had a bit of a nasty shock at the beginning of the month when his mom got into a car accident. Her car was hit by a runaway horse cart (the horse broke loose and the cart barrelled into her car). Thankfully she was fine but her car was a total loss which left them without one of the two cars they relied on. Normally not a problem but since Dan had left it a *teensy* bit late to renew his passport, it meant that he didn’t have his own car to drive up to the consulate to get it done. Which put a pretty massive strain on our timeline. He was flying out for my birthday on the 13th and, even getting a rush job on it, he was cutting it pretty close. He had to drive out to put in the rush application and drive back to get the actual passport but he could only do that on days that his mom didn’t need his car to get around for work. It was very frustrating watching time tick by and relying on everything going perfectly when it had to. In the end, he got his new passport, in hand, on April 10th.

I had been planning a huge birthday party for years because I wanted to celebrate my 40th in style. I wanted a theme and a venue and catering and a bar and I wanted as many people as could make it to be there. In the end the whole planning thing stressed me out so much that I ditched almost all of my big plans and just invited everyone who wanted to to join me at an Irish pub in the city centre. Some of my lovely friends even flew in from other countries to be there despite the fact that there wasn’t a big, organised happening, so it looked like all my worrying was for nothing.

Dan landed on the 13th while I was at work and he spent the day in the city and then walked to my place from there to meet me when I arrived home. It was the longest day ever at work because all I wanted to do was see Dan. Knowing he was so close and I had to wait was trying, to say the least. It was his first time back since New Year’s Eve and we had the place to ourselves. Driving into the parking lot and seeing him standing there made me happier than I can put into words.

After we walked the dogs (a task that would be all his after my surgery) we headed upstairs to have a “nice, quiet evening”. I’m not lying when I say we had every intention of watching TV (or a movie, I forget) but then we started kissing and before you knew it items of clothing were flying about and, as a result, my couch has stories that would make you blush. Then we got ready for bed and picked up where we left off. 😉

Waking up with Dan in my bed the next day was amazing. Even knowing I had to go to work, it was lovely to have him there and to know he would be there when I got home again. It was such a familiar and comfortable feeling. Thankfully I didn’t have a long day at work which meant I was home at a decent time and we had some time together before we were due to head out for our first social engagement together. We had dinner plans with other people. Some of my friends who had come in from other countries especially for my birthday party the next day were meeting us for dinner at one of my favourite little “best kept secrets in plain sight” restaurants and it was lovely. Dan did well being the only guy, too. Larissa, Claudia and Sara refrained from putting him in front of the Question Firing Squad (trademark pending) which meant we had a delicious meal and Dan would know more than a couple of people at my party the next evening.

I don’t remember what we did Saturday morning but I know it must have involved staying in bed for as long as possible, walking the dogs and taking it pretty easy before we were due to head out for all of the festivities. My parents, nieces and my Auntie Gay, who had travelled in from England, were taking the train to Amsterdam to have dinner with Dan and I before the party started so we met them at Central Station and walked to the Irish pub together. I was really pleased that my parents had already met Dan and liked him that past January which meant the pressure of “meeting the parents” was off. Now he was also meeting my nieces and one of my parents’ oldest friends and it really felt like he was one of the family. Auntie Gay has known me my whole life and she’s marked all by milestones with me. It was very important that she meet him.

Playing tourist while waiting for my family to arrive

Dinner was simple but fun and it was in the same pub that the party was going to be in so there was no rush to leave for another venue. The party itself was a blur. What I had hoped – my friends from different areas of my life getting together and having a good time together – happened, but I didn’t get to talk to nearly everyone on the night which was a shame. The time seemed to fly by and my cheeks hurt from laughing and smiling. I had told everyone not to bother with gifts, as them being there would be gift enough, but the silly beggars went and brought me armfuls of truly thoughtful and lovely presents and I got well and truly spoiled.

Dan found himself a comfy corner with my family and my friends from the night before and found himself the subject of much curiosity. There seemed to be a musical chairs of other friends taking the seat next to him and wanting to get to know the “guy that got Jo to change her mind about relationships”. He was told in every conceivable way that everyone was hoping I would find someone special some day but they weren’t holding their breath anymore. “So, this is the Dan” was a frequent exclamation that night. He took it all in his stride and seemed happy to answer any questions levelled at him while also being content to watch me be a social butterfly.

By the time everything had wound down and the two of us piled into a taxi with all my birthday spoils I could happily say I’d had an amazing birthday.

The next day we had a super lazy day, ordered in food and binge watched Orphan Black, which I had already seen but we’d started from the beginning so that we could watch the last season “together” when it came out later in the year.  It was the best possible way to spend the day after so much activity the day (and night ;)) before. We did more or less the same thing the day after on Easter Monday which made for a lovely long weekend before my one day of work before my surgery.

I’ve written at length about my surgery here so I won’t do all of those details again but I do want to note that I was really glad to have Dan there with me and I was especially grateful that he was so patient with me when I was more than a bit horrible and grumpy and short with him leading up to my big day under the knife. I was very nervous (only stitches I’ve ever had were for removed wisdom teeth and I’d never been under general anaesthetic before) and I took it out on him. He was a star and stayed so patient with me. Most of the time he pretended like I wasn’t even being awful but I know I was and I really, truly appreciated him being there and taking all of it on the chin. More so the next day when he drove me to the hospital on the wrong side of the car and the road and stayed with me and my grumpy self until it was time for me to get ready (and wait). It was lovely to see him come back in the room after my surgery as well and I knew I had a keeper when he told my green-faced, half-drugged, droopy self that I looked gorgeous. He made the whole thing so much easier to get through.

He was even more amazing in the days following my surgery when I couldn’t do much but squeak in pain every time I moved. We had set up the fold out couch in the living room so that I could get in and out of bed easier (the frame of my bed had, er, broken mysteriously a few nights before and the whole end of the bed was sagging down) and I would be closer to the bathroom if we were sleeping in the living room. He got me drinks and snacks, he walked the dogs and he generally made sure I was comfortable in every possible way. We cuddled up and watched more Orphan Black and I crocheted a bit between naps. I slept a lot in the first two days and I could do that without a care in the world knowing he was nearby and taking care of my fur faces.

Dan and Alfie, a classic bromance

By the third day after my surgery I was ready to leave the house and we had a date night using a restaurant coupon I got from a lovely colleague for my birthday. We went to a cute little Italian restaurant in the city center and, even though I was still pretty sore, I made it into and out of town in one piece and we had a lovely time. It was nice to be out at a restaurant, playing at being grown ups in a relationship. It was even lovelier walking through the city with the setting sun making everything warmer and more magical.

The next few days were spent on short visits to my family and friends. On Sunday we went to my parents’ house for dinner and my whole family was there (my parents, sister, her kids and her boyfriend). My mom made an impromptu buffet and we had a lovely time with my whole family in the same place instead of in smaller groups at a time. Then on Monday, the first day of my holiday, we went to visit my friend Emma and her little boy Zeph and then we went to my friend and colleague Edwin to drop off my dogs for their visit with him while I went off to England for a week. Even including my very busy birthday, Dan still wasn’t even close to meeting all of my Amsterdam friends yet but we’d made a very good start. While we’d been spending most of our time meeting people and seeing my favourite places, all new things for him, it still felt like he’d always been here and it was the most natural way for us to be.

My favourite trip to England was the one we took the next day when we got to travel there together. The singular fun there is in packing together and looking forward to something together made that silly little one hour flight over the channel very special. We got to the airport really early because there had been warnings about long lines and wait times and we ended up tripping through security in under five minutes which meant we had a lot of time to kill on the other side. And then on top of that, our flight got delayed by about half an hour. The flight itself was uneventful and when we arrived his mother was waiting for us, ready to show off her new car. Having only seen her for a few hours on my previous trip I was unsure how the hello would go but I needn’t have worried. I got a massive hug and a hello and she was very glad to see me again. Once we were back at his place Dan went to get some things from the car and she gave me an even bigger hug than the one I got at the airport and she thanked me for “making her Danny so happy.” You couldn’t wipe the grin off my face with a baseball bat.

Waiting for our delayed flight at Schiphol

We spent a couple of lazy days in bed because my stitches were really bothering me and I was still pretty sore (and had massively overdone it in the last few days for someone who’d just had abdominal surgery). He brought me to Hobby Craft to get yarn and a hook and I started making a big cardigan. We watched movies and slept and it was heavenly. Dan made us fajitas and everything was cozy and domesticated.

Kitchen King

Then, on Thursday, his mother announced that I needed to be shown the sights and Dan had to take me out somewhere nice. We decided on visiting Durham cathedral and having a walk along the water. It was a slow walk, no worries. I had already bought loads of leggings and long shirts because the jeans I had brought with me were rubbing against my stitches something awful. The cathedral was lovely and Durham itself is adorable. We had a lovely lunch after our walk along the water and then came back home to get changed for dinner as his mom was taking us out for a meal. She was adamant that I be shown a good time. Dinner was lovely (another Italian restaurant) and we had a walk along the marina where I got to see the statue of a monkey that got hanged for being a French spy (a story that may or may not have actually happened).

On our walk along the water in Durham.

The next day I was feeling pretty fit so we went to Whitby to visit the abbey and that was amazing! I’d been to Whitby before but hadn’t managed to get to the abbey that time. This time we did and there was even a birds of prey show on. We had a lovely fish and chips lunch at Trenchers and got ice cream and walked along the pier. I counted so many lovely dogs (it’s a thing I do; when I’m away from my dogs I tend to count all of the ones I see each day I’m gone) and even though it was a bit windy and cold we still had a marvellous day.

Whitby Abbey

Then came my last day in England and we spent an hour or two at a car boot sale before heading home to cuddle again. We were going to go catch a movie but decided we wanted to hole up together instead. The reality of my trip home the next day was hitting us and knowing I wouldn’t be seeing him again until June (if we even managed that) was weighing heavily on me. We didn’t talk much, just lay in each others arms on the bed and I cried a little. After spending three weeks together I normally would have been very happy to have some time to myself again but now I couldn’t fathom him not being there when I got home. Not having a countdown to the next visit was going to make it even harder to cope. I needed something to look forward to.

The next day at the airport was miserable. I cried shamelessly and got the shoulder of his hoodie all wet. Standing there, wrapped in his arms with my head on his shoulder I couldn’t seem to make my body turn away from him and walk away. Of course I had to and I miserably made my way to security. Everyone there pretended like they couldn’t tell I’d been crying (how very British of them) and then I cried some more when I was through to the lounge and waiting for my flight. I must have looked a right state but I didn’t care.

The flight home was uneventful and after picking up the dogs at Edwin’s I drove straight through to my parents’ place to spend the night at theirs. I tried very hard to focus on all of the lovely things we’d done in the last three weeks but it was just glaringly obvious that he wasn’t with me anymore and that I really wanted him to be. He fits perfectly and now there’s a big Dan-shaped hole when he’s not there.

Knowing I wouldn’t be seeing him at all in May was a very bitter pill to swallow.  

(… to be continued …) JIx

***

Also in this series: February and March (link to January in the text)