We had fun!

Yesterday Angela and I headed to Universal Studios with our friend Angela and her two teenagers. This is the third time we've been in 10 months and can I just say, I never thought I'd be the kind of person who goes on the same rides over and over, but I loved it!

We did do several new things this time which means I have officially done everything at Universal (ok, I haven't eaten any cotton candy or bought a $11 beer but still...). We went to the Waterworld show and promply got soaked. Yes, we knew we were in the 'Wet Zone' though we specifically did not sit in the 'Soak Zone'. I should have clued in when a show cast member came out before the show and started throwing buckets of water into the audience. It only got worse from there. Nothing like being on the receiving end of a jet ski's quick turn!

Then we decided we'd go on the Jurassic Park ride, which our friend Angela assured us was a water ride but was very calm. Apparently the dinosaurs just spit a little every so often. So off we went. We watched people buying $2 ponchos left and right but we scoffed. Ponchos, whatever! And then we got on the ride.

Yeah, the only part of me dry after that was my butt. Literally. The ride took us down several drops, log ride style, and then ran us through several waterfalls. Literally just poured water on us! But you know what? We laughed and laughed and laughed the whole time. We loved it! It was a nice warm day and who cares if the sunscreen ran off and messed up my shirt? Who cares if my blue wrist band bled all over my shorts? Who cares if my bra filled up with water? WE HAD FUN!

And that's what yesterday was all about, having fun. We all have annual passes (Universal constantly runs deals, buy a day, get a year free) and the parking to get in is cheaper than a movie ticket per person. And we had coupons for free sipper bottles full of pop so it was a great, cheap day! And we topped it off by heading over to the studio tour and checking out the new King Kong show. But most importantly? WE HAD FUN!

Sometimes I think it's so important to remember that life is fun. Why shouldn't it be? A lot of life is hard and scary and sometimes you just want to hide. So why not grab those moments (or those 9 hours in our case) and leave everything else behind and just enjoy something, someone, some place.

The salt air

Yesterday Angela and I headed to Malibu with our friend Angela. We drove and drove down Sunset Boulevard then cut north to the Pacific Coast Highway, the PCH here in California. We drove and drove and drove some more and finally found the much heralded Zuma Beach.

Clean sand (no rocks like down in Santa Monica and Venice), blue-ish water (except when the waves through the sand over), lots of waves (it's a big surfer area), Baywatch-type lifeguards in red uniforms, loud music, lots of families with canopies and too much food, and us.

It was a gorgeous day, not too hot (though we all returned a little pink in areas the sunscreen didn't make it too), a little breezy, cool water and relaxation. Sometimes I forget that's what the beach is all about. As we stood there, watching the waves, anxiously awaiting the dolphins to pop back up again and give us an encore, it was all that mattered at that moment. The ocean. The beach. And is there really anything better than the drop dead tired feeling you have upon return? I slept for nine hours last night, hard and fast, and woke up refreshed this morning. Yes, the salt air does agree with me.

I smile now

Sixteen hours after landing in Detroit last month I headed over to MediLodge, one of the care facilities in Howell. This was a big deal for me as I had avoided this place for most of my life. I don't, or didn't, do nursing homes well. When I was little my mother's grandparents, my great grandparents, lived in a nursing home. We'd go see Grandma and Grandpa Larry on a regular basis as they were just over near Jackson, less than an hour's drive away. However, to me, a little kid, the place seemed horrible. It smelled like a hospital. People sat in wheelchairs in the hall, and the whole place had an institutional feel to it. I don't know why, I just didn't like it. At all.

Fast forward a few years and I became a youth group member and then a youth group leader in Howell. It was our charge to lead the worship services at the two local care homes every September. And every September for six years I bowed out. I couldn't do it. The thought of walking up to those glass doors made me cry. Literally cry. So I just didn't go.

Fast forward to now. I've gotten better, it's true, over the years. A treasured family member is in a facility in London, Ontario and we've visited and it's a lovely place. Really. I am not lying. And I've had my share of hospital and doctor experiences with other family members and friends to learn to suck it up and deal. However, this past month I found myself having to enter MediLodge to see my Grandma MacDonald. She fell in January and ended up having multiple surgeries that have left her physically impaired and very shaky on the details of what's happened in the past five minutes. Ask her about something that happened 15 years ago and your golden.

But off I went. I had to, there had to be no hesitation, no indecision. This was grandma. Grandma who we visited constantly growing up, weekly if not more. Grandma who lived four blocks away. And guess what? It wasn't so bad.

The place has been renovated in the last few years and it's amazing. Bright and airy and cheerful. The staff was friendly from moment one. Everything's all glass walls and windows, comfortable couches and aquariums. Libraries and concerts and state of the art technology. They even have a cafe. Color me impressed.

For the month that I was in Michigan I went to MediLodge countless times. I'd run over by myself to deliver the afternoon paper. We'd go as a family, take a homemade dinner complete with table cloth and hot dessert, and eat in one of the many common areas. We'd run into people we hadn't seen in years, catch up with friends, talk to patients, laugh and smile and laugh some more when we left. The people in this care facility are not just patients, they're characters.

My grandma is getting the care she needs and deserves. She's being well fed and they're helping her adjust. She plays cards and bingo and watches movies and chats. She's never in her room, one day it took 10 minutes to track her down. She gets her hair done at the salon that's right there when you walk in. And trust me, I'd get my hair done there. That's how nice it is.

Does it break my heart to see her there? Yes. But not for the reasons I might have suspected 1o years ago. It breaks my heart because she isn't well. And she's not progressing as we all had hoped. But on the other hand, I smile because I know where she is. I met the nurses and therapists and her roommate and her friends. I shared meals with her. I listened to a Frank Sinatra impersonator with her. I watched as they set her hair. I saw her try to reteach herself to walk. And all of that makes me feel closer, even when I'm far away.