Chapter 17
February 22, 2008……………………….A New Day
I awoke refreshed and believed it was going to be a great day. I try to start every day this way. Some days it’s easier than others.
I called the list of people who had expressed an interest in purchasing the motor home. The last person I spoke to said they wanted to meet me, give me money and pick up the keys for it. I was right. It was going to be a good day.
I drove away from Key West with my head held high, my chin up, and I knew, the next time I came back, I would have a purpose there. I wouldn’t be the fiddler’s widow trying to have a good time. I wasn’t sure what it was I would be doing but knew it would be something important and enjoyable. I wondered when it would be and when I would find out the answers to my questions. Oh, that’s right, live in the now, Diane. Patience is a virtue you possess.
I greeted the people who were buying the motor home at their place of business. We exchanged money, title, and keys and I wanted to head back to the house and go through that little moving home one more time before they took it away. I just wanted to make sure there was nothing left in it I wanted. I just wanted to be in it one more time, for no real reason at all, just because.
As I drove into the yard my cell phone rang and it was the company who insured the house in Georgia. I was talking to them and straightening out details of putting my name and address on the policy so I could prove to the mortgage company I could insure it when the new owners of the motor home drove into the yard. I tried to rush the person to whom I was speaking with on the phone but they were talking at a pace slower than slow and I realized this was more important than me going through the motor home again.
The new owners got into the motor home started it up and drove off while I watched feeling helpless but realizing I wasn’t meant to go through it again. I didn‘t need to go through it again. Another material piece of our lives together was disappearing and I had plenty of memories in the videotape of my mind. This moving piece of memories still had the website name across the front and rear. It had come to me in a dream in 1999. Red---Di---set---go; his name, my name and we were always on the go. I watched the Reddisetgo RV, reddi-set-going down the road.
In the old days a moment like this would have called for a celebration drink. I decided there was a hot tub and a swimming pool calling my name up the road at the Holiday Inn where they welcomed locals and if I wanted a drink I could have one. Right now I didn’t need or really want a drink.
I jumped into my truck and headed for the pool. I picked my perfect place in the sun and languished in its rays. I have always found a great deal of comfort in the warmth of Father Sun, wherever, whenever, and I started to doze off when all of a sudden, someone turned the outside speakers on around the pool. I had been enjoying the silence as I had the place to myself and I tried not to be disappointed by the interruption of my quiet time. I wondered what I would be listening to this Saturday morning.
It was a national feed to a local station and they were in the middle of a program called the Celebrity Shuffle where the celebrity picks the music and speaks of his life. The song playing was a Beatles tune, “All you need is love,” and I smiled and tried to think of who the celebrity host might be today.
As soon as he uttered his first sentence, I smiled and realized I was listening to one of my favorite humans in this earth plane, Deepak Chopra. I heard him say, “When people experience the intoxication of love they put out healing energies…” I not only had the loving rays of the sun bathing me I was going to be able to hear words of wisdom from Deepak while he shared his favorite songs with the listening audience, definitely a welcome interruption.
During a commercial break I called my youngest son, Jason. He was busy but I wanted to make sure he was having a good, productive weekend and also get an idea when he would be coming back to Florida.
“I was invited to come down and sail in the Hogs Breath 100 race but I can’t do it. I have to concentrate on my studies,” he stated with disappointment in his voice. “I am thinking about doing the Tybee 500 though,” he added hopefully.
“Is that the 500 mile race?” I asked him. “Yep, it leaves Key Largo on Mother’s Day and my classes are over by then,” he sounded like he needed a break.
“That sounds like something you’d enjoy. Maybe I can help. They might need some ground crew. I should get in touch with Warren. It sounds like the Tybee Race is going to be right after the Hogs Breath Race and I offered to help him with that this year. I’ll give him a call,” I told Jason.
“Yep, I am sure he’d love some help. I’ll be racing with Dennis in the Tybee, if I decide to do it…,” Jason said as his thoughts drifted to all the work he had to do before racing. I imagined he must also be thinking about what he would be doing after the race too.
“Have you figured out what you are going to do this summer yet?” I queried.
“No, not yet, Mom. I am up to my eyeballs in dead lines for school. I can’t even think about it,” he told me.
“Well, you might want to fill out an application for a job that appeals to you and see what happens. I am sure it would take a load off your mind if you knew you would have income and something to look forward to for the summer months,” I tried not to be too motherly in my statements. Before he could get defensive I told him, “Now get back to work and keep in touch.”
Shortly after my conversation with Jason, a man and a woman sat down about 10 feet away from me. I love to watch and listen to people, not to eavesdrop in their lives but to observe how humans interact with each other. I always learn something. Something about them told me they were not a couple. If they were a couple not only were they not on the same page, they weren’t reading the same book!
Along came another woman and a man, it was fun to guess who went with whom by their conversations and gestures but something told me there still was someone missing.
Along came another man and he obviously belonged with the first woman who’d sat down. He announced to the group they had inappropriately chosen their position on the sun deck. They were not facing in the perfect direction to get the most of the sun’s rays. After a little more complaining, he convinced the group to move to another spot on the opposite side of the pool and he led the way.
As he passed me he said, “You certainly look happy.”
“Thank you. I am. I hope you find your happy spot,” I told the impatient man followed by his dutiful and slightly disgusted wife. She looked at me and shook her head, “He won’t be happy till he’s 6 feet under.”
I tried not to laugh as I watched them attempt to position themselves about 20 feet away with the other couple following right behind. The man who didn’t appear to belong to anyone looked at me and said, “I guess I better follow them. What are you trying not to laugh about?”
“Well, I couldn’t help but hear your discussion and I almost laughed out loud when she said told me her husband wouldn’t be happy till he was six feet under. I would imagine she would feel rather strange if she knew I buried my husband a few months ago. I am finding it amusing how often people refer to death, dying and being 6 feet under,” I smiled.
The man, perhaps a bit embarrassed by the company he kept, gave me his condolences and asked if I had vacationed there often with my husband. Was I there on a trip we had planned before he passed?
“Oh, no. We both work, or, I should say we both worked, down here. He was a musician and I do health seminars, healing work and home improvements for employment and many other things on a volunteer basis,” I explained.
“How fortunate for you to be able to work here. Do you live here full time?” he asked.
“No, I came down to take care of some unfinished business, relax a little and try to figure out what my schedule is going to encompass over the next few months. Fortunately, I am able to take some time off before I have to settle into my new life,” I told him.
“Well, God Bless you young lady. I hope everything comes easily for you,” he added.
“Thank you. I find it does when I let it,” I smiled as he excused himself and walked over to his friends.
I watched him settle into his new spot and looked over at a lovely child playing in the pool and realized this youngster was the grandson of the man I had just told Jason I needed to talk to about the sail boat race. His father, Dennis, was sitting right beside him.
I got up and walked over and sat in the water and chatted for a few minutes about life. We discussed how things were going in each of ours. Dennis owned a water-sports business and raced with my son as often as possible. I had done quite a bit of work for him and his wife and had enjoyed watching them raise their little boy.
Eventually, I found out his father, Warren, was indeed looking for volunteers to help him with the sail boat race coming up in April. I promised to give him a call and coordinate dates. This just might be the reason for my return trip.
I went back to my chair and listened closely to the radio for a few minutes before I picked up my phone to call Warren. Deepak was saying good bye. I was so glad I had come to this pool exactly when I had. There are no mistakes.
I called Warren to offer my help. He would count on me to be there from Thursday, April 24th through Sunday, April 27th. He was giving me the title of Race Committee Chairwoman. He also wanted me to know the Tybee 500 race, which my son would be racing in with his son, was leaving May 11th, so I may want to stay down for that as well. I smiled when I realized how well this was coming together.
I told him I would work it all out, I would most definitely stay down to watch the send off for the Tybee. The start of my son’s first 500 mile sailboat race was on Mother’s Day and I couldn’t think of a better Mother’s Day gift I could give myself.
“What are you doing this weekend?” Warren asked me.
“I am taking my girlfriend to Key West for her birthday. Why, what’s up?” I asked.
“I am coming down to scout out the insurances, permits and locations for the trip. Can you
coordinate your trip to accompany me?” he asked hopefully.
“Are you buying lunch?” I laughed.
“Sure. And your girlfriend’s too. I’ll even pay for your gas!” he said.
“Call me when you are on your way down and we’ll work it out,” I answered him while I was marveling at the synchronicity of The Universe.
I sat in the hot tub for a few minutes and then lied in the sun to get just 15 more minutes of rays before I went back to Karen’s house. I laid my head down to take a few deep breaths when my phone rang. Bruce was calling to ask me to put the dates for the Song Writer’s Fest in Key West on the website I maintained for him. It started Sunday, April 27th and went for the entire week.
“Really? Would you like some help transporting equipment, musicians and technicians?” I offered my services. This was getting to be too good to be true.
“I’d love your help, Diane. You and your pick up truck will come in handy,” Bruce assured me.
“You can count on me,” I told him and wished him a safe journey.
Guess I knew what I would be doing on my return trip to the fabulous Florida Keys.
I went home to find Karen just getting ready to take a nap so we could go out and DO SOMETHING fun that night. I called Dave Feder, a musician-friend of mine, and left a message asking him to call and tell me where he was playing that night. I shut off my phone to get a nice afternoon snooze.
When I turned my phone back on his message was there, “Green Turtle, Islamorada, 7pm. Hope you can make it.”
Karen and I headed south on US 1, making a few stops on the way for a bite to eat and a hug here and there. We enjoyed each place along the way, visiting with friends and spending a little more time than originally anticipated. The Keys have changed so much since I moved there in 1992, but, you can still find some of that Old Conch Charm and a few old Conchs when you look hard enough.
We stopped at The Island Grill and then at the Lorelei on our way to Islamorada and arrived at the Green Turtle just in time to hear the musicians on stage finish what must have been an amazing rendition of “Summer Time.” The last verse was simply incredible. We sat at the bar and Dave took a break to come and say hello to us and to introduce us to the people he’d been playing with on stage. He had a busy weekend ahead with concerts in the park and invited us to meet them the next night for more music.
I told Karen I thought it was great to hear other peoples’ music. I missed my husband’s and found it hard to listen to the people he used to play with because they just didn’t sound right. I’d had a hard time in Key West listening to Bruce and we’d stopped to hear Ted play a little on the way down. It just wasn’t as much fun without the fiddle player. She had to agree.
The following day was Karen’s birthday and we were going to do the Key West trip during the day, meet with Warren where we were instructed to, have a little fun in Key West and then attend the concert that night back here in Islamorada. It was going to be a full day.
The call from Warren came the following morning just as we were leaving. He asked me if I could meet him at the Islander to talk with their events coordinator. I told him we would be there in 20 minutes.
Karen kept herself busy while I went inside and greeted Warren. The girl we were to meet with was running a little late, which was perfect as it gave him time to bring me up to snuff on the plans for the race. This race was being considered the tune up for the Tybee 500 which was scheduled two weeks after the Hogs Breath 100.
We went over the computer program I would be using to plug in all the numbers, the schedule of events for the 3 days I would be helping and the duties I would be responsible for as Race Committee Chairwoman. He would pay mine and my friend’s expenses, meals, gas and a hotel room in Key West for the night. It all sounded great to me.
The contact woman from the Islander was also employed by the Grand Key Resort where we would be staying and holding our awards dinner in Key West. She arrived and we went over details for the BBQ, who and what needed to be picked up where and when.
After our meeting we went out to get into our vehicles and head for our next stop in Marathon. We were to discuss the procedure for coming ashore on Sombrero Beach. If the winds weren’t strong enough on the day of the race we would need a stop off point half way between Islamorada and Key West and the beach in Marathon was perfect. The only concern there would be the sea turtles. They had the right of way and there were places the sailors couldn’t go. Hopefully, we wouldn’t have to stop in Marathon at all but we had the maps and the details. I am so very glad they take good care of the turtles’ nesting grounds.
After that meeting we climbed into Karen’s convertible and headed for Key West. We met Warren and had lunch with the contact person from the Hog’s Breath. Warren headed back up the Keys pleased with our accomplishments. Karen and I caught Michael McCloud’s last set at Schooner’s Wharf and had a Birthday Bloody Mary. It’d been a truly perfect day and now we were headed back north to listen to some great music and meet some new friends.
That night and the next were filled with music. I am sure Red would have loved the guitar players. They were what I would call musicians’ musicians. They performed with such an eclectic style only someone who played music would really enjoy what they were doing. It was beyond jazz, with no lyrics, no beat. They were undoubtedly incredibly talented musicians but I do not understand music cut from a cloth so different it’s discordant to my ears.
I met some great new friends. One in particular wanted me to give her a Qi Gong lesson so we booked it for the following day. I later found out she was a Grammy award winning fiddle player who had been in the Keys and nearly attended the evening service in Key Largo for the celebration of Red’s life in December. We were definitely destined to meet and I had a feeling there would be more time spent with her in the months and years to come.
The remainder of my stay in the Keys was truly wonderful. I was so glad I had come down and wondered when I would return. I was also glad I was looking forward to being home on the Suwannee. My life was beginning to make more sense and more important, be fun once again. I still missed my fiddle player but I was beginning to realize, I probably would always miss my fiddle
player. There would never be another Red.
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