The last post I started to talk about the how the differences between my husband and I build the basis for adventure in my family. Really our differences build the basis for all things adventurous and ordinary. Amazingly, what we eat in the morning and how we cream our coffee, all that, and that’s the easy stuff. So my world . . .
I grew up in a middle working class, suburb. Building forts in neighbors’ backyards and our basement. Father, vietnam vet who ran a grocery store with his father. Mother, teacher. Divorced, and I became part of the ‘first wave’ of children of the 70’s with divorced parents. Really, it just was what it was. All of it really. Not knowing about the war, or that divorce was “new” or any of that. We rode our bikes up and down the street, walked to elementary school and watched a lot of Scooby Doo on Saturday mornings. We loved Star Wars and Grease, and played flashlight tag after dark all summer. That was about it.
I never really considered other countries, seriously as real things. I learned about them in history class, but I guess it was kind of a “the world is flat” way of thinking about what was beyond my life. It wasn’t until I went to college that I learned about the Vietnam War. My Lit class read Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness and my professor began to open my eyes to my life. For the first time we talked about what it meant to be a Vietnam Vet and how that war affected families. My family. My dad had actually been at war in another country where he was injured, and treated. For the longest time I wondered how he ever made it through. Since those early college courses, I have continued to seek out ways that experiences extend way beyond the entrance to a subdivision and the high school football field.
Now married to a man who sees the world as a journey of endless possibilities, everything from Aston Martins to remodeling homes to caravaning across Europe. I appreciate my ability to re-look. I appreciate the chance to open myself to possibilities and experience. I also appreciate my ability to help my husband see the intricate and the subtle, and savor in the small and beautiful.
It is a good and challenging match in that way.
From the St. Louis Arch on our Midwest tour
Tivoli Theater, St. Louis, MO
Very clever restaurant
Windmills across Kansas