Monday, October 4, 2010

Normal.... a very subjective term.  What is normal?  Who is normal?  Today normal is returning to my normal routine after a flurry of events and people surrounding the wedding of my daughter Amy.  I cherish normal.  My mother Dorothy was agoraphobic.  The definition of the word means, "fear of the market place."  Today they would just simply say afraid to leave the house.  My mother would put on her scarf that covered most of her head and face and go shop at 7 am in the local grocery store.  I only remember her traveling to Colorado and New York to see me and her grandkids.  She did fly to Washington DC to visit the grave of JFK as she was deeply moved by his death.  She was a stay at home mom and only in late life did she get a job cooking at the local assisted living home.  She did not attend church but did work in the church kitchen for receptions following funerals.  I never asked her the right question.  "What's up with that?"  My father was always friendly and outgoing in his profession of being a plumber and eventually the custodian at the local school.  He really liked getting out of the house.  He traveled a lot when he was young and spent a few years sailing around the world with the Navy during World War II.  He had several strokes in 1976 but never let that keep him down.  He traveled on a Greyhound bus to Colorado and New York several times after he could no longer drive. I guess you might say that my mother and father were polar opposites.  That never seemed to be a problem.  They just had different definitions of normal.

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