March 1994

The trip to St. Petersburg began early, 5 a.m. on Thursday, March 24th. Tracy, Walt, the twins and Paulie came Wed­nesday night to be ready to head south in the A.M. We left around 6am and agreed to meet at the ”Maryland House” on I-95 outside of Baltimore for breakfast. We did so, and then on to rest stop meetings. At one we had to wait for them, at another they were ahead, etc., and so on to our evening rendezvous at the Hampton Inn in Fayetteville, North Carolina. We both arrived around 4pm. Walt and Tracy had had some carsickness episodes, but all were doing as well as could be ex­pected. We had adjacent quarters. After June and I had a walk we dined at “Shoney’s” where quantity is the drawing card and the price is right, i.e., cheap.

We were off the next day, Friday, after a ”free” breakfast at the Inn, leaving again at 6 a.m. We met again for lunch and then stopped for the evening in Ocala, Florida. The weather was so warm that the guys went for a swim in the motel pool. We had a big break­fast and then arrived at our new home for the week in Shore Acres, St. Petersburg. We took Saturday and Sunday to recoup and settle in. Sat­urday we shopped and basked in the warm sun. The temperature was in the 80s and Sunday we took a walk, visiting a new house for sale, but it was so hot we had to slow down on the way home. We later learned that the temperature reached the 90s and that day and Monday set records for the area.

The Shore Acres house is owned by Rich and Shirley McSorley. It is a one story house, called a “rancher” in some places. A drive­way, to an attached garage, on the left; a large bay window and stone patio-porch on the right. Tile roof, newly painted white, glistens with its green trim. The driveway runs about 60 feet and so does the lawn abutting it in front of the porch and house. The house sits on the curve end of a dead end street.

You enter a large living room, but directly ahead is a door on the opposite side of the house – leading to a backyard area. You travel through the living room, pass by the dividing wall, enter the breakfast area, and then out onto another stone slab patio. Directly in front of you, not more than 60 feet away, flows a stream. The grass and greenery go right to the water’s edge. Posted on either side of the rear lot are two large trees. Two more are just a mite farther and closer to the stream. The stream is an inland waterway. Across it are the neighbor’s ranchers, with decks and powerboats. There is usually a slight breeze blowing through the trees. They seem to be willows, since they are draped with a moss like string. The actual species remain at this time unknown.

The area is very quiet, except for the cooing of some doves. Since the house sits on the curve of a dead end street, little or no traffic travels on the street, called “Massachusetts Avenue”.

The view and the quiet of the passing stream, while sitting in chairs on the patio area is worth the 1100 mile drive. I thought of John and his spending his last good days here. It was a good place to be.

It is the morning of the 30th. Everyone is sleeping as I now hear the bells of the Lutheran Church chime 8 a.m. They went to see the Phillies play in Clearwater last night. Arrived home after midnight with no decision. It was the end of the 11th inning and the Phillies and the Orioles were tied 6-6. The evening was cool and they had a 45-minute ride home. Hopefully we’ll learn later who won (no one).

As I scratched away in the above paragraph I heard some noises in the living room. An investigation resulted in finding Paulie playing on the floor. I got a big hug, and then inquired if he needed a change. He agreed, yes! He quietly took me into his Mom and Dad’s room to show me where the diapers were. We then re­turned to the living room where Pop-Pop become a “Dad” once again, changing the little guy’s diaper. Afterwards, we had breakfast to­gether. We then left the house and visited the street, played ball in the garage, chased butterflies down ”Butterfly Lane”, a nearby street, picked a daisy for Mom, but then thought better and decided it should be for Grandmom. In all, we had a delightful hour of just plain enjoying as only a Pop-Pop can. As I often say these days, if I had known what fun being a Pop-Pop was years ago, I’d have skipped the middle part and gone right to being one.

Sean, our 10 year old grandson, expressed concern on Sunday evening about what I was doing or going to do here on vaca­tion. He had already had beach time Saturday and a water park experience on Sunday, but what had I done or what was t going to do? Wasn’t I ”bored”? I explained that I was going with them on Monday to Busch Gardens in Tampa, and invited him to help me with my taxes which I was planning to do on Tuesday. I was also enjoy­ing walks, reading, writing, sleeping, eating end generally enjoy­ing the weather. It all failed to satisfy him, and he, of course, refused my offer to do the taxes with me. He considered such an offer to be “boring plus!”. I thanked him for his concern about my welfare and tried to convince him I was really enjoying my stay, even if to him it appeared “boring”.

On the day Paulie and I had our time together, as we had breakfast, suggested we raise our glasses in a toast to the ”Pauls”. He raised his glass and then looked at me in rather puzzled fashion and said ”I’m Paulie!” Touchez! June said I then should have said ”And I’m Paul Leo!” He was too serious at that time for me to alter in any way his very proper conclusion.

The last day of March is upon us. Pleasant, 70 degrees to­day, with a modest breeze. Ten weeks since I had my insides realigned. June decided the reminder, or reminders, every week should stop. She has no reason to remember that day, since it was not a pleasant one for her in her anxiety and fear. She has a point. We walked in the sun along “Coffee Pot Boulevard”, along the Bay of St. Petersburg. We walked for an hour, stopping to visit the twins, Paul and their Mom and Dad on the beach as we passed. I have slept soundly. Now the ”Hearing is done!”. All I need to do is build upon it, to stren­gthen my body and to get once more on the run. Jogged a bit again this A.M. It feels good to be back ”on the road again”.

Today, Tracy, Walt and the twins are going “para-sailing”. They parachute off the back of a speeding powerboat and soar up as far as the rope will let them. If they should tire and let go, they drop into the bay. They wear life preservers to be sure they don’t sink while being rescued. They returned shortly. The weather was too windy for Dave and Sean’s weight, so Mom and Dad decided to forego until the football players were a bit heftier.

The twins, Paulie, Mom & Dad took off for Cape Canaveral on Friday, very early, so June and I had the house to ourselves. The quiet was a pleasant return. We straightened up the house and then spent the day reading and walking in the very pleasant weather and wonderful environs. Saturday and Sunday we drove back to “snow” country. We did it in 16 hours with appropriate breaks – it was further assurance that the ”Healing is done!”

It’s a Sunday in April. It’s quiet and cloudy as I look out over my backyard. The grass is really green and growing in leaps and bounds. The weather is to be showers, how appropriate for April ­so we’ll have May flowers. We, June and I planted a second lilac bush yesterday. She has pansies to go in the large pots and the box on the railing. God is in heaven, and all is right with the world! At least this world!

Two years ago in these scribblings I recalled that this was ”Boston Marathon Month” and recalled my journey 20 years before from Hopkinton to the John Hancock Building in Boston. Now, two years later, I look forward to funning with new piping, and with just as much enthusiasm. The weather, and seeing people running by, all make my body itch to be “on the road again”. We have walked very hard and jogged a bit, but have not yet really tried any “running” as defined i.e., 8 minutes a mile for more than one.

One week ago today we returned, on Easter Sunday, from Florida. It has been such a busy week we find it difficult to believe it’s only been a “week”. It was a wonderful time in very good weather and makes June believe it’s the place to go come winter every year.

(On reading the above ramblings, they appear more and more as a journal-diary, not quite as I intended when I started with the ”Odyssey” some 2-1/2 years ago, but since I have a captive audience who seem satisfied with these reports, be they “journal” or “diary”, I hope to continue).

The time “fugit’s” on and here we are at the end of April and not off the press. The time has been well spent. Just last weekend we used our Christmas gift from Mike and Cindy and the McSorleys of a trip to the Hershey Hotel. It was delightful and we’ll be reporting on that adventure shortly.

We leave you with a thought for the day (or month) reported to be uttered by Paul Tsonges, the recent Massachusetts Senator who ran for nomination as the Democratic candidate for President: ”No one on his deathbed ever said ‘I wish I’d spent more time at the office'”, I couldn’t agree more!