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I arrived on island on a hot June day. It had
been a long three and a half hour flight, no memorable food nor movie. Of course it could have just been me, in stunned oblivion
of life in general. I know that I slept some, yet was so tired I could cry...and did. The culmination of a three week
flurry of activity that I wanted to obliterate from memory.
I awoke to the noise of dings and a flight
attendant asking if I wanted a drink. No, thank you. I look out of the oblong, scratched window and see the puffy, "cottonball"
clouds that represent the upcoming Caribbean. I can see the white tips of waves far below and know that we are already below
32,000feet. This is really happening, I think to myself. I am going home but this time it's not a vacation. This time I'm
here to stay, for I can't see past that right now. My mind screams silently in rebellion while desperately seeking the landing
strip for this flight to be over. I look across the aisle and see my son alseep with his head against the window.
My aunt is up front a few rows. I realize I am sitting next to tourists, newlyweds more likely, who are giggling softly and
kissing. I happen to make a one-eye-contact and think, shit, here we go again. "Have you been here before?", the new bride
gushes with a Crest- whitening toothpaste show of teeth. " This is our first time here. Some friends of ours recommended it.",
says her husband with a flash of even whiter teeth. "Yes, this is my home. I was born and raised here.", and I flash my own 500
watt show of white...too bad it's fake.
(My mother raised me to be polite and I can't help myself.)
Well why on earth did I have to say that? The questions and answer session flew for about 10 minutes. Then it happened. The
inevitable dreaded question-I should be used to-but am not. " Are you married?", another mega watt flash of white. Now
see, here is where the dose of reality and being a widow comes in. I could be demure and say yes, and be telling the truth
for in my heart I still am; or I could be ruthless and say no, he died almost 2 years ago and you are killing me with your
love for one another. Why spoil it for them? I quietly say yes and turn to look out of the window again. They instantly forget
about me as they feel each other up in public. I hear their giggles and I feel sick, my stomach churning from the need to
cry out my pain. When is this damn plane going to land??
The preparations for the landing start
and despite myself I feel some excitement as I always do when I see the rocks and outlying cays upon approach. The western
end of the island streches out like a long finger beckoning you in. The green rolling hillside is easy on the eye and
you follow the curve of land. The shore is rocky, the water appears blue-green; with waves crashing against the cliffs. There
is Botany Bay, with it's not so white sand. My heart beats faster with a primal awakening of territorial claim.
As the plane flies even lower you get the feeling you can just put your hand out and touch the water.
The land takes a deeper inland curve and the blinding white sand
of Brewers Bay Beach can be seen. The blue ofthe water is electrifying and it streches forever. I am home. My heart
feels like it will jump out of my body. The view of that beach while landing is as familiar as my own face in the mirror.
It wouldn't be "coming home " without it, and I realize that I have almost always managed to sit on the left side of the plane
when flying home, to see this.
We touch down and the rumbling undercurrent
of cabin noise begins. Does anyone ever wait until the plane comes to a complete stop before unbuckling their seatbelt? Some
people are already clambering for their carry-on luggage from overhead, and I feel my mood switch from excitment to annoyance.
Since most are in a hurry, and I know where I am, I wait patiently. Here on the island of St. Thomas, you still deplane with
stairs into the hot sun. There is no comfort ramp of air conditioning, being herded like cattle to the gate. Once you leave
the cabin of the plane you KNOW you are in the tropics. The blast of heat is enough to make you run for the airport building.
There isn't much, if any, humidity. The trade winds are
blowing steady and are cooling, it's just a matter of getting used to it.
There is the usual hurry up and wait for your baggage area.
By then I see the couple who sat next to me up at the bar having rum punches, the woman's voice a bit shrill.
Enjoy your stay, I think to myself. I turn around and there is my mother waiting with a smile and a hug. We look for my son
and aunt and find them through the crowd up by the baggage ramp looking for our bags. The usual greetings, hugs, questions,
answers. I can hardly wait to get out of there, I am feeling claustraphobic. With our luggage in hand we move to fresh
air outside. My aunt goes for her jeep and my mother,
her car. I ride with Mom, my son with my aunt. As
soon as we clear the airport and begin the ride to the house I break down into tears, the whole day being a bit too much for
me. Good thing my mother understood and it doesn't seem to phase her. I feel the finality of the preceeding months,
indeed, the entire first half of the year, settle on me. The things I had been through, the decisions I had made, the
courage, the energy I had to expend to get me this far; was almost too much to bear. I made myself, by sheer will,
to stop crying. I was afraid I might never stop. Deep breath, I stared out of the car window at the blue water all around
me. I light a cigarette and feel a bit better. Kudos to Mom for biting her tongue about my smoking. I know that with my arrival
there is a huge weight of responsibility removed from my shoulders; however, I have yet to feel that relief even as I sit
and write this. I cannot see my future, and that has me scared. I am living in the here and now, and somehow I have to just
do that, every day...and see my life unfold. I am worried about wether or not I can make it here, on island, I've been away
so long..over 20 years. Yet here I am for it is the only place on God's green earth that I feel safe right now.
****(as i write this,
i realize this is the beginning of some part of my 'book-to-be'. therefore from now on it will be be told i hope as
daily observations and not so in depth. please bear with me. you can send comments, questions if you like. go to my contact-
me page)***
Continuing...
It is now the month of August, the dog days
of summer, as it's known. The new school year has started for children here in the islands; and there is a hurricane Frances
on the horizon.
We are getting into the peak time for hurricanes around
here and everyone has a watchful eye to the sky. None so keen as my father. He checks the weather every hour, on the hour,
as he makes final preperations around the outside of the house.
I have been delegated the "bulletin watch", which means
that I get to print out the bulletin updates from the National Hurricane Center off of my computer. And so we carry
on.
As for me I have settled in as much as I can
be right now. It has been a hard transition, but I do believe I am getting acclimated to island life, and the mentality, once
more. I have arranged and re-arranged my bedroom to my satisfaction, but sure to be changed many more times. There is a certain
chaotic routine to my day. Sometimes it flows, sometimes it streches, and sometimes I don't even know what world I'm in.
The computer seems to be my anchor as far as 'the familiar'
to my past life. Though I tend to view things as BJD(before jimmy died) and AJD(after jimmy died), in my mind as I carry on
with my day.
My son now has a job, and that keeps him busy. At this
point it's all about survival and he's on top of his game. I have been driving him to and from work, and driving myself to
and from various places. Driving is done on the left side of the road here and presents many challenges to both newcomers
and locals alike. One must be ever vigilent, more so than in the states it seems, or one will end up in an accident. Horns
are a priority here. They are blown for every reason under the sun: to say hello/goodbye/hurry up and move/stop/go/cross/...on
and on.
I grew up with it so I really cannot imagine what a tourist
must think. A friend of mine came to visit in July. I do remember her literally diving for cover when she saw cars coming
at her on the "wrong" side of the road. She was here for 11 days, I don't believe she ever got over that aspect
of her visit.
(to be continued)
.....and now....
It is the month of November. In about two weeks it will
be Thanksgiving. I have volunteered to do the turkey and pies, and my version of stuffing, inherited by marriage. I have asked
myself why I thought I could do all this since I spoke up, and I realize that it is to continue some form of tradition.
While I don't have my little family of three and
our friends to grace my table anymore; I do have my rather large extended family and friends to
do the honours for. This is a combined effort on a grand scale of when I was growing up. This is Thanksgiving island style.
This is major chaos, excitement and a satisfying precourser to Christmas.
The Christmas winds are blowing, according to my mother.
They are, literally, blowing from the north, sending a cool breath of livliness to the everyday. Not the nip of jackfrost
that goes to the bone like the states, but a changing of the guard, so to speak, in direction. The seas around us reflect
that change also; becoming large swells from the north, breaking big and frothy on the beaches. Locally this is known as a
"ground sea". When everything is churned up, or "ground up". The pull of the waves will carry you way out, a riptide, and
you better know how to swim, and what to do to get yourself out of it. The surfers on the northside of the island get in some
good rides this time of year on a regular basis, not having to wait for hurricane waves.
The cruise ships are starting to multiply daily.
There have been days already when there are four or five
in the harbor. This is our money making season, winter. It will continue to increase through the colder months of the north,
and into spring and our local Carnival the latter weeks of April into the first weekend of May.
I haven't been home for Carnival in many, many years. It
will be something to be gawked at and hopefully enjoyed on some level. Maybe I will have gotten over my reluctance to jump
in crowds by then.
The stores all have Christmas items out and festive decorations.
I am acutely aware of time passing quickly by, yet not particulary having anything to show for it. By that I mean I still
feel a kind of physical and mental "stuck in limbo" existance, though I know I have "done " things, or gone here, or there.
I wouldn't be me if I didn't acknowledge that I still miss
my house, my things, my comforts that says: mine.
I miss my friends; though I write to them, it isn't with
the frenetic pace and desperation I once did. I guess that's progress. I am pretty much acclimated to the island now, speaking
the lingo; watching out for swindlers who think I'm a tourist and try to trick me out of my money. Shame on them.
But I also am seeing through the fog of negativity that
clouded my return and noticing the generosity and loving hands that reach out to me, regardless of who I am, or not. I am
beginning to find my feet, and to stand firmly as part of society; especially this island society, which is what shaped and
formed the person I am and have always been from the inside out. The many colored Caribbean threads that make up my fabric,
along with the authentic stamp of a Virgin Islander, are being mended along my frayed edges. What has been unravelled
is becoming whole once more, with stronger, brighter colored thread as each day passes. My smiles are quicker now, my laughter
genuine. There is a sparkle that reaches my eyes and even I take notice. There are days for reflecting, for remembering. But
more, these days are for living. Living brought about by experiencing the colors and vibrancy of life all around me. By the
stoic perseverance of life in these islands, and the strong resilience of it's people.
The pulse and rythym of this island beats loud, deep and
proud. I hear it, I feel it, and more importantly I am living it.
I will add in here my thanks to our nations armed forces,
those in combat and peacekeeping. Those long gone and those to come. And to my husband I say: I love you, and I thank you.
Semper Fi, my love, Semper Fi.
11/10/04
...continuing...
THE RANCH
There's this place in the country where a certain house
sits. It has been the site of many gatherings for Christmas, Thanksgiving, birthdays, etc. It has always been a house full
of laughter, love, songs and dance. Full of sorrow, misgivings, discipline, sympathy and understanding. A respite from the
storms of life; a steady, strong fortress..always at the ready, for anything life throws out. It is my home, the home my parents
raised us in. The home known affectionally as El Rancho Hanko, or The Ranch.
The kind of place where the phone number stay the same
and childhood friends call your parents to find out where you are today.
The kind of place that has had open doors for friends,
family, even strangers. Always a kind word, a plate of food and something cold to drink. Kick your feet up and share a joke
or two on the front porch. Dance to country or calyso music under the ever glowing Christmas lights that haven't been taken
down, ever. Party lights they're known as now.
A place of pride, comfort, chaos, and serentity-all at
the same time. It has withstood hurricanes, been rebuilt once, redecorated many times, bedroom switches as children move on,
and move back again. Now there are grandchildren doing the coming and going in this house, with the same love and comfort
as their parents had.
I look around this place...this "Ranch"...and know it's
home down to it's very core. Some places a bit worn down by time and weather; being maintained as best as the old cowboy can
manage. Occasionally a nephew or two will become ranchhands and offer their strength and youth to help.
As I am the "daughter who returned", my hands are finding
their way around familiar places, inside and out. Helping both mother and father in this, our home. It is wonderful to belong
to this family of mine. It has always been my rock, my steadfast ship. My lighthouse in the storm. I am finding myself again,
the me that I really am inside. The me that they sent out into the world so many years ago. It's been a hell of a ride so
far. I have come full circle, back to the Ranch and all that it offers. I only hope that I can offer something worthwhile
to others who come looking for sanctuary, and to those who never left, my parents.
.....going into Thanksgivng week now...should be
revving up around here soon.....
A New Year, 2005
Just a title for now, but will revisit and add my observations
of the Christmas season. The ups and downs, the life force all around me. The sense of big things to come.
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SPREAD YOUR WINGS AND FLY
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New Year, Same Island
Well, the holiday season has passed. It was chaotic, stressful,
joyful, a bit sad at times,
argumentative, shocking.....and I got through it.
Why did I choose those words to describe it?
Because they fit the range of emotions that ran through
my mind and heart at any given moment. It was all of those plus some, which I don't even think they have words to describe
properly. It was a blur of activity, a cleaning frenzy, a traffic nightmare doubled. It was a tree that took me all day to
decorate, then was exhausted from the effort. It was buying things I couldn't afford, but thought I could, for others, just
cause I was in the spirit for the moment. It was missing the hell out of my husband, and wondering if I would ever see a Christmas
again where I wasn't missing him.
Of course not...more like will it ever stop hurting.
Then came Old Year's Night, as it is called here(New Year's
Eve); finally made it to church and saw the new year in in the comapny of God. We had a good talk, He and I. We'll be alright,
He and I.
Now it is a new year, and with it came a new job. Part
time, two days a week, and struggling to make that, but so far persevering. The outcome of that yet to be seen, but at least
I am trying and that in turn gives me some well needed self esteem boost. At the same time I wonder if this is really
where I want to be, this field. I do love it, but now that I am there again, I feel the need for something else, something
far removed from this. Something big. maybe it will find me, and I just have to be patient.
Patience: a much over-used word if you ask me.
The island has settled into the new year with the same
slow chaos that has been for time eternal. More cruise ships bring more tourists, who in turn bring money to spend, and thus
keep the wheels of this economy turning.
The airport is full of passengers also. This is peak, prime
time for visitors trying to escape the bitter cold of the mainland.
***to be continued***
February, 2005
Time passes quickly when you are having fun-"they say".
I must be having a ball then.
Another "anniversary date" come and gone, makes it a year
since I scattered his ashes.
It was a strange affair, being Valentine's day and all.
No time to be private really, but so be it. Another birthday come and gone, I am now three years older than my husband when
he passed. Yeah, having a real ball...
The island still bustles with the tourist season. I am
usually going with the flow of things most days, but sometimes the daily grind gets to me. The new job is great, I just still
don't know if I want to do it though, yet I am doing it. I am finding it hard to find time to even go to the beach,
which means, to me, that I am finally in the land of the living again. I have arrived at the entrance to the mundane, working
stiff world once more. I don't know how I feel about that either. There's a lot I don't feel. I am on auto-pilot again.
My nieces' and nephew now have me as a part of their everyday
life; which is kinda cool.
I want to go back to school, thinking about here, at UVI.
Maybe take up counseling, or a writing class. Maybe I'm just blowing smoke up my ass.
**be back soon**
May, 2005
Well the Carnival season has just passed us here, last
weekend to be exact, was the grand finale. I did not go to town to watch the parades because standing in crowds of people
just doesn't cut it anymore for me. I did see some old familiar faces here and there.
My son did join in the Jou'vert Jump up that spanned the
entire waterfront one early morning. He has never seen anything quite like it before, and for him, I am glad he took part.
It was like watching myself come full circle.
Same weekend we attended a wedding, a cousin his age got
married. She was beautiful, the groom was so handsome. The reception was a blast. We danced and ate and drank and had just
a good old time. Again, it gave me some joy to see my son mingling with family and his cousins.
There was an "after-party" the next day at the beach. That
was great too. I must say that this has probably been my best time on island since I have returned here.
There has been other changes going on in my personal life
that has propelled me forward somewhat. I have let go of mental and emotional baggage that I've been dragging behind me ever
since I lost my husband.
It's more of a coming to terms...and another step in acceptance.
For one does not just "accept" and then go on like nothing has happened. It happens gradually, in increments. I absorb it
slowly, process it, understand what I can of it; take what I need from it, and let the rest go. It is not something I knew
to do. It is something I LEARNED to do, as I have walked this grief journey of mine. I am constantly learning things about
myself; mainly that nothing will happen unless I make it happen. THAT was a revelation in itself...yeah, I'm a bit stubborn.
I have also decided that I wil return to school, for a
new vocation. I want to help people in situations such as mine. I feel that I can offer a lot of insight, empathy, and guidance
to help them get started on the road to recovery. While my journey is not done...I think I understand now that it will never
be done...it just changes shape and morphs into what is needed at the time. I feel the need to help others along the way,
and in turn I will be helping myself.
The only way to get on with it, is to get on with it. So
that is where I am in my life right now.
As Marvin Gaye once crooned: "Let's get it on.."; I say
I'm getting it on.
The relationship of myself and my different family members
have taken on new aspects and nuances. I am more assertive in my wants. I am more vocal in saying No, without feeling guilty.
I am growing, morphing, becoming...me.
That makes me smile, for I can once more envision a future
for myself.
Till the next go round...
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ALL THE "FIRSTS" ARE DONE
June the 8th passed for me a little tearfully, but quietly,
as I said my good-byes to my in-laws and headed for the hotel where I would be staying the night before catching my flight
home the next morning.
It was a lovely visit as they embraced me for who I am
and not just my husband's wife.
Sure, there were tears, as we remembered the years past;
but mostly there was laughter, lots of it, smiles, jokes...a general easing of the passage of time and survival for all of
us.
That night of June the 8th as I sat in my hotel room pondering
my life I knew I had done the right thing. The first being that I had made the attempt to visit and it went well, considering
the last one. Secondly, I would be flying back to the islands on a different date than when I had landed crying, resentful,
screaming internally of all that had been lost to me.
When the plane landed on June the 9th, it would signify
a new beginning, however small and unnoticed by anyone-I would know it.
It meant that I was returning of my own free will, not
being "forced" to do anything. It would mean that I had gotten off island in under a year, even if just a visit to in-laws,
and that I was capable of "doing it". I was not cemented in place on this rock.
It is the end, really, of all the first anniversaries of
all the major things done since my husband died. THANK YOU, GOD.
It is the beginning of new hope for me, internally and
externally. Yes, I will have days where I cannot cope with even opening my eyes. Yes, there will be days where all I may do
is cry. Yes, there will be times I might rage at all the injustice of it. But all the firsts will be over. And when you walk
this walk of grief, that is such a huge thing you want to shout from the rafters for the world to hear. Not that I will though...I
just cherish the Knowing of it.
Believe me it makes quite a difference.
It is a quiet relief, a personal satisfaction that you
acknowledge and toast yourself for surviving.
Where am I now? Well, it's June 19th...Father's Day in
America. I am celebrating my Dad, while missing my husband. Exactly 2 months to the day will be 3 years since he died. I will
deal with that day as it comes.
Now I'm going to eat turkey and all the trimmings that
go along with it, cause we're celebrating Dad, and I still have him.
6/19/2005
July, 2005
July started with a bang. In an almost literal sense, it
being the 4th of July and all. But also in the sense as this is turning out to be "Visiting Month".
There is an influx of family and friends who are popping
up from everywhere; some, most I should say, I haven't seen in about 20 years or so. Add to that their children. In one afternoon
we had upwards of 13-16 people at the house. I call it the first wave. The second wave should be arriving starting this week
and into the next. I have seen more family this past year than I have over the last 20. I guess this is what happens when
one actually LIVES here, as opposed to coming home to visit. Everybody comes home to visit, just not alll at once. July is
a popular month it seems.
We've had some tropical weather pass by us. Today Hurricane
Dennis, a Cat. 4/3/2/4/2 hurricane slammed into the Florida panhandle causing havoc clear up into the Ohio river basin..not
over yet.
We narrowly escaped him as he brushed by here. Doesn't
seem to stop the visitors though.
For my own use, I will also mention the bombings in London
that happened a few days ago; recalling 9/11 for us, and upsetting the tenous balance we have trying to go on with our lives.
Mom starts her vacation this week, the car decided to break
down, and all will be well, I'm sure. It's called positive thinking.
A lot of beach time coming up, and I'm sure a side trip
or two to St. John in the making.
I can't believe I've been here over a year and haven't
made it to that island yet-shame on me.
I have a friend coming to visit me in a couple of weeks.
One of my friends came last summer, same month; we had loads of fun. I hope this visit is a good one for this friend too.
She's never been here before either.
Well, all for tonight.
© Susan Britton/2005 |
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