Category: A Moment in My Life

A Moment in My Life – Tuesday, September 22, 2020

Today, 36 years ago, I became Mrs. Mark Davis, a role I cherish forever. Although I no longer celebrate the way that Mark and I did before, to me, this is still our special day worthy of remembrance. Just because he had to move on to his heavenly journey doesn’t mean that our anniversary ended. 

Here’s a funny story. On our first anniversary, I couldn’t remember our wedding date, so Mark took care of that. He slaved on this masterpiece for nine months. When he finished it, he handed it to me and said, “There. Now you won’t forget our anniversary again.” It was important to him that I did not forget, and I haven’t forgotten since then.

We were never into exchanging gifts, but we were big on exchanging cards. A few days before our anniversary, Mark and I would go to the card store, and once there, he went off to the wife’s display, and I went to the husband’s display, and we picked out each other’s cards. We would fill out the cards, and on the eve of our anniversary, we placed the cards on our respective pillows. At bedtime, we would open the cards together. This ritual meant more to me than any gift ever did. 

Early on in our marriage, we couldn’t afford much, but we always spent the day together. You never know how many anniversaries you get. Thinking back, I’m grateful that we decided to take our special days off and enjoy it with each other, even if that meant merely hanging out in front of the TV, but we did it together. Since Mark was a foodie, at the minimum, we would dine well. By dining well, I don’t mean expensive. I mean, we would splurge and allow ourselves to eat foods that weren’t on the daily menu. 

If not the leisure day at home, we savored bay area getaways to our favorite haunts such as Santana Row, Bodega Bay, Carmel, Salinas, Healdsburg, Morro Bay, and Napa, to name a few. Every excursion with my honey was my favorite, but some memorable locations stood out. Such as, on our 25th anniversary, we spent the week in New York City where we fell in love with the city, when the grand idea came to me to make that our anniversary destination. The idea poofed when we learned that annually the United Nations Leaders met in NYC the same week as our anniversary. So much for that bright idea! What’s so bad about that? I’m glad you asked. Everything becomes a commodity with the huge influx of people coming into town for that meeting. All were vying for the same hotel rooms jacking up the prices and availability. Everywhere you went, there were chances that the roads might be blocked off when the special guests are in the area. For example, our tour bus halted on Fifth Avenue for an hour and a half when they closed the roads ahead of us for one of the leaders visiting in the area. As you can imagine, everything took longer. It was a wonderful vacation, just the same but not as relaxing as hoped.

Then there was our last cruise together, which was, of course, another Star Trek cruise. By this time, Mark’s health challenged our creativity as far as location goes. I didn’t want to go far. I tried to stay within reach of Kaiser, but we craved cruising so badly, so when Cruise Trek announced their California Gold cruise, a light bulb went off in my head, and we booked. It was so good to spend a week with our Cruise Trek family again. Little did we know that would be the last time for Mark. You never know. It was one of the best cruises simply because of the people. 

One anniversary, we stayed in the Carmel area. Our wonderful friends, Wizard, aka Mike Kozlay, and his lovely wife, Betty, met us there and hung out with us the day before our anniversary. They introduced places they enjoyed and opened up a new world that we hadn’t seen. Oh, such fun with good friends! 

There’s so much to appreciate in this world. I’m glad that Mark and I experienced a bit of it together. There are a few places on his bucket list unexplored, and perhaps one day, I’ll go there for him. Until then, I have these precious memories to cherish on this day of the life I had with this wonderful man I called my husband.  

A Moment in My Life – Monday, September 21, 2020

Dedicated to Uncle Gabe Gallegos

It doesn’t matter how many times you go through it; the news doesn’t get any easier when someone you know passes away. Right before bedtime yesterday, I checked Facebook one last time to see what my Facebook family was up to, not expecting to find Cousin Karen’s post that read, “Hi all. Hope everyone is doing well. I want to pass along some very sad news to our picnic group. Our Uncle Gabe Gallegos passed quietly yesterday afternoon, September 19, with his family by his side. His daughter Laura asked that I share this with family. Sending love and prayers to Aunt Rose, Laura, Lynette and their families.” I was expecting to find some fun posts to end the day off with a smile—instead, my day ended with a heavy heart.

I didn’t know Uncle Gabe well. He was my late husband, Mark’s father’s younger sister’s brother-in-law. I met him through the annual family picnic. Uncle Gabe was a gentle, quiet, soft-spoken man with few words but big smiles. When he smiled, his eyes sparkled, warming your heart, knowing that he was genuinely happy to see you.  He consistently made me feel welcomed and loved in my extended family. I looked forward to seeing him and Aunt Rose, even briefly, each year at our family picnics. Who knew that you could become so fond of someone with such little interaction? Uncle Gabe made a permanent mark on my heart that can’t be erased.

I know that I’m not the only one who is sad we won’t see Uncle Gabe at the next family picnic. I’m also sad that, due to Covid-19, there won’t be a family picnic this year for the first time since inception. 

When Mark brought me to his family picnic on July 4, 1982, I had no idea that it was the first family picnic. From the merriment that greeted us, I assumed this was something they did every year. The Davis and Gallegos clan are such a friendly and loving bunch that when they get together, it is as if no time had passed since the last time they saw each other.

This annual picnic has witnessed many transformations over the years. The first couple of picnics ushered in new members during, what I called, the ‘tying the knots years’ where many of us, myself included, married into the family. The next few years were, what I called, the ‘baby-booming years’, when the young couples started their little families. From there, the picnics grew to an impressive size for a family picnic when the little ones became many, and as they grew old enough, the four-legged members joined the family. Those were the golden years. 

In the next few years, we witnessed a dwindling in attendance caused by, what I called, ‘the empty-nester years’ with the kids growing up and going off to college or moving away to start their lives. That was inevitable. Then there were the unexpected—the divorces—and families moving away. I thought that was sad, but that didn’t prepare me for what was forthcoming. I was still naïve, unaffected, and ill-prepared for, what I call, ‘the heavyweight years’ when irreconcilable illness struck, robbing us of people we loved. Over the short course of three years, we said goodbye to Cousin Walter, Aunt Loo, Cousin Tina, and my husband, Mark, and now we say goodbye to Uncle Gabe.

I’m grateful to Cousin Karen and Cousin Tim for their hard work and dedication to make the annual picnics happen, so that the extended families could visit together for an afternoon every year. When I attend these picnics, I feel like I’m going on a treasure hunt where I don’t know who I’ll see there, but I know that each person I encounter would be a sparking gem who would put a smile on my face, warm my heart, stimulate my mind with their stories, and satisfy my tummy with their yummy foods. 

In a typical year, we would be attending our 38th annual family picnic in a few weeks, which would be in perfect time to console each other with hugs and stories to share as we toast Uncle Gabe, but there won’t be a picnic this year. Instead, all I have is gratitude for those times that Uncle Gabe graced my life by being in it. Thank you, Uncle Gabe, for showering me with your love. You will be missed, and you won’t be forgotten! Goodbye for now, Uncle Gabe.

A Moment in My Life – Thursday, September 17, 2020

For days I knew this call would come, but I didn’t know when. Mystery solved. The dreaded call came this morning that my cousin Heman breathed his last breath at 2:30 a.m. 

His sister, Lena, and her husband, Kenton, were finally allowed to visit at the same time with Heman in the hospital this past Sunday. Heman looked unrecognizable after months of torment from pancreatic cancer that spread to his liver and stomach. They agreed that it was finally time for hospice. Lena started a FaceTime call so my sisters and I could visit with Heman, probably for the last time, and that call was the last visit for us as a family.

I’m sad that we had to say goodbye to Heman so soon, but considering after half a year of enduring agonizing pain and suffering, it was a relief that now he won’t suffer anymore. Due to Covid-19, he went through all of this without visiting with extended family and friends. He was a champ who fought the good fight even though the doctors gave up on him a month ago and repeatedly recommended he begin hospice. 

He was one of the most loving and kindest people I know, who had to grow up too soon caring for everybody else and didn’t get to enjoy living his life for himself yet. By the time he was 18, he had lost his second parent to cancer, and he became guardian to his nine-year-old sister, Lena. Last month, he turned 45 from his hospital bed, overwhelmed with unbearable pain instead of celebratory festivities.

I was blessed having known Heman, and I was looking forward to hanging out with him after Covid-19. Since my mother’s passing in 2017, we became closer and began forging a bond, and I thought our family was finally going to get our happily ever after. With this unexpected turn of events, I guess that’s not going to happen now. There’s a bit of a change in plans. Heman will hang out with my mother in heaven instead of with us here on earth.

Hey Heman, I guess that means we won’t be making that El Faro burrito test tasting date after Covid-19 ends, after all. It won’t be the same without you, but I will get a burrito in honor of you, and I will toast the wonderful person you were. I miss you already. You will live on in our hearts forever. Goodbye for now!

A Moment in My Life – Friday, September 11, 2020

As I remember 911, the tears well up, my chest tightens, my body and mind go numb from the memory of this unthinkable, horrific tragedy that changed our lives forever. I still can’t fathom the massive destruction caused by this one atrocious act.

Today, as I remember, I keep thinking of Genesis 50:20. It says, “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good.” I thought of this verse because we are living proof of this. There was so much devastation, so many lives destroyed, insurmountable scars left behind, but we survived through it all. This tragedy brought out the good in people. People from all over came together, risking their lives to search for and rescue survivors, put out the fires, tend to the wounded, provide shelter and provisions, donate whatever was needed, provide prayers, comfort, support, and lend a helping hand wherever possible. Nothing separated us. Not the color or our skin. Not our religious beliefs. Not our political views. We were one nation under God working together to restore what was taken from us and help each other put the pieces back together as much as possible. 

We need this remembrance today more than ever before. Somewhere along the line, we forgot that we are all in this together and that we are better and stronger working together. Underneath our exterior uniqueness, we are made the same with all the same components.

Today, I honor the memory of the fallen and all those whose lives were impacted. We can never go back. We can only move forward and live each day the best that we can to honor their memories positively.  

A Moment in My Life – Thursday, September 10, 2020

Over a week ago, I contemplated whether I should begin shopping for a new Fitbit since I’ve had my Fitbit Charge 2 for five years this month. It has served me well, but it was showing signs of wearing down. So, I wanted to replace it with one just like it. I was bummed that they no longer carried my model. I browsed what was available, and my best bet would be the Fitbit Versa 2. I wasn’t ready to take that plunge, until, as if right on cue, my sister-in-law, Nancy, texted me out of the blue, that she bought a Fitbit Versa 2 and was loving it. It seemed like it was meant to be. I hadn’t told anyone, and she had her watch for over a month but chose that moment to tell me. 

As we talked, I hung onto the joy of her every word sending me right back to shopping. That night, I caved and went for it. I purchased mine from Amazon on Wednesday, and it arrived on Friday, a day earlier than the ETA. I couldn’t be more thrilled. I spent the afternoon charging it and setting it up. Looking at this new watch, my Charge 2 looked like something a kid would wear. The Versa 2 watch made me feel all grown up. I knew I made the right decision to acquire the replacement. The honeymoon was everything I hoped for so far, and I was looking forward to a long marriage. 

The next afternoon, right after my hour’s walk, I went to stop the activity tracking when the screen went black. I couldn’t stop the tracking. Seconds earlier, I glanced at the screen, and it was functioning as expected. Now, I couldn’t access anything. I saw a flickering green light on the back, showing it was thinking and processing, but I couldn’t revive the screen. I ended up submitting a return request, and Amazon sent me a replacement that arrived the next day.

Nancy had no issues with hers. I wasn’t so lucky. When my new watch arrived, I figured the setup process would be a breeze since I did it once the day before, but I had to fumble with things to get it the way I had the first watch set up. You would think that being the same watch that everything would be the same. Tried as I did, I couldn’t find the clock face that I chose for the first watch. By now, instead of continuing the honeymoon vibes, I was leery. I was expecting something else to go wrong. I didn’t want more issues, but I got this feeling there might be more coming.

That night, right before bedtime, I checked my Fitbit app, and there was an alert that my Versa 2 couldn’t pair with the app. Nothing I did help. I ended up wearing my Charge 2 to bed for sleep tracking. In the morning, I googled and learned a reboot would fix the problem. After following the instructions to reboot, it did. Phew.

Just as I was settling into my Versa 2 and forgetting about expecting the other shoe to drop, I woke to find no sleep log registered the next morning. That’s one of the main reasons why I have a Fitbit—to track my sleep. By this time, I figure one more issue will send this baby back.  

Today is day five, and so far, so good. Maybe this acquisition will survive the test of time and make it for that long marriage, after all. I wouldn’t mind.

A Moment in My Life – Wednesday, September 9, 2020

“No way! I don’t believe you!” If I were you, I wouldn’t believe me either, but I witnessed it for myself, making a believer out of me. I woke up like usual just after 6:00, and my first thought was ‘gee, it sure is getting darker faster,’ which wasn’t that surprising since I’ve been waking up to dark mornings lately, just not this dark. Usually, I could see my fingers without turning on the lights. Today, I couldn’t see anything without turning on the lights. 

I opened the blinds to a dusky orangey daybreak that didn’t alarm me since many fires were still burning strong. I made my way downstairs, opening the blinds as I went like I usually do, but boy, was it dark inside. I gingerly made my way down the stairs trying not to lose my footing. Out of habit, I didn’t think to turn on the lights. I could see a yellow-orangish hue outside the window under an opaque orangey haze. The veil of smoke above the haze was so thick between us and the sun that the sun couldn’t report in for duty today. The sun had to take the day off. It was a tough job, but somebody had to do it. Why not the sun? Our sun works every single day without complaint. I know that our sun is still standing by waiting for its call to duty, even when forced off duty. 

Without the sun, it didn’t hit me how dark it was until I attempted to use the microwave, but I couldn’t see the buttons to press without turning on the lights first. That’s when it hit home that this is a morning like none I’ve seen. 

Instead of getting lighter as the day broke, the darkness intensified, getting darker by the hour. Even the streetlights thought it was night and kicked on around 10:00 in the morning. I felt confused because I was starting my workday, but the atmosphere looked and felt like 9:00 at night, and a little voice whispered in my ears, “it’s time to unwind and get ready for bed.”  

It resembled dusk around noon, reminding me of my Alaskan cruise when, one night, as we neared Seward at 11:45, the sky was finally dark enough for twilight. I draped myself on the ship’s railing and soaked in that twilight for as long as I could stay out there. 

I remember thinking that I couldn’t handle having daylight all day and all night for half a year, then having total darkness for the next half of the year. Being on the ship with a week of daylight was tough to acclimate to. I’m glad the ship darkened the windows of the dining hall in the evenings. That helped, but not enough. The daylight kept me active and messed up my sleep cycle. Today, when the morning went straight to night, skipping everything in between, I found myself drifting back to that cruise, but instead of perpetual daylight, we got an extended night. Instead of feeling more productive, I felt the opposite. I sure hope the sun reports for duty tomorrow. 

I always appreciate the sun, and I welcome it every day it reports to duty. Today made me strive not to grumble the next time the sun is standing back while the overcast or fogginess take center stage. I know the sun is there, meekly brightening our day right behind the clouds and fog, and that’s way better than it is off duty. 

This year has broadened my horizons more than I would ever have imagined. Who would have imagined a day without the sun? Who would have imagined that we’d skip the day and go right into the night this far away from Alaska? Indeed, not I? If I took the sun for granted, today reminded me to appreciate it. I pray for full containment of the fires so that our beautiful sun shall report to duty every morning and take center, or side or backstage, but it will shine from wherever it is.