Nose to Nose I Suppose!

It was tough; I wasn't quite sure I could pull it off .

My reflection begins. In 1998, after some discussion, my sister and I agreed to have sinus operations. We both have been plagued with sinus problems most of our lives. Having a chronic sinus condition was an annoying problem that, well, annoyed us. :-0

Diana made the dates; she picked a well known doctor. Within a few days we both had had a sinus operation. My sister's procedure turned out fine, but, oh my goodness, I suffered a nose collapse. This was not at all my sister's fault, as she, at times, has blamed herself. "It was the luck of the Irish draw.", I would quip to myself.

As denial turned to realization that my face had changed, I jettison my emotions toward wacky humor. I announced that I was moving to Alaska, to live in an igloo and be among my brethren. What really happened slowly and insidiously was my onset not wanting to be with people. New people that I met after 1998, wasn't too bad; they thought I was a distant cousin to Owen Wilson. Those that I have known all my life presented a conflict to me. I didn't want for them to see " the change." My weight fluctuations have been part of my life for all my life, and that was part of me. This nose was not mine. I truly disliked my nose.

I wanted to shoot myself in the "nose" for those thoughts. Many of our soldiers returning from war were maimed. Many had multiple disfigurements, and here I was obsessing over my dent in nose. I watched soldiers get on with their lives in spite of carrying the knowledge it was war and not birth that had altered them. I wanted to be magnanimous about myself, but it wasn't happening. I felt small. I didn't look small, but I felt small inside.

My 1965 high school reunion was coming up soon. My sister wanted to attend the reunion, and it was so, so important for her that we go together. I thought how she probably is not aware that twelve years, of being different than I was, had affected me internally and socially. Unlike her I was not in the public; it had become easy to stay out of the public eye.

This was difficult, for I hate to disappoint a sister who has done a great deal for me these many years. I kept thinking about our soldiers' determination. With reluctance I said to Diana, "Let's go for it." I attended, but my heart was heavy.

The reunion turned out fine. Diana crowed, "No one mentioned your nose, Charlene?"
"No one did."
"No one asked if you've had an encounter with the boxer, Tyson?"
"No, and my ears are fine, thank you."
"No comments?"
"No comments."
"And why do you suppose?"
"I suppose they didn't recognize me!" (;-)

The reunion was fun. Many people I didn't recognize either.

In a way, I came out of the closet of insecurity nose first; it's all I can do not to turn around and follow my nose back inside. It's tough. And I'm still not sure why.

The Day I Met Him October 1973

As an airline employee, flying on standby is a maybe yes, maybe no constant factor. It becomes part of our life style.
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When he saw me coming on board Western Airlines, he had no idea who I was. Dressed in jeans torn and patched way before that was the "in" style, he glanced up at me walking down the airplane aisle. With long brown hair, an old T-shirt completed my wardrobe. If he thought I was a hippie, I wasn't. Heck, I graduated from Ole Miss in '69. Archie Manning was our man, and beer bust parties were the school politics of the day. He may have thought I was a hippie. All I needed was a flower necklace around my head, but I can assure you underneath those grubs was a Tennessee Southern Belle.
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There was one available seat on Western Airlines that day. It was a short flight from Los Angeles to San Francisco, but this seat saved my waiting a couple of extra hours for the next flight. Not that would have made a great difference to me, being a TWA flight attendant I took the perks with the disadvantages.
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I smiled at him when I asked if the seat beside him was free. There he was dressed in a suit, black framed glasses...very formal looking. He wasn't my type. The flight was less than an hour. I could engage in pleasant conversation for that length of time. In the seventy's, even on short flights, champagne was being served, and the minutes passed by quickly. As the airplane began to descend, out of the blue he said to me, "I know where there is the best Italian restaurant in San Francisco." The one and only line that rang my bell, he had nailed it.
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He gave me his business card, telling me he would call later. I gave him my telephone number. As I did, I said I hope I have enough gas to get home. I wasn't sure I did. He'll remember that statement later. He soon lost me at the airport, as I had vanished into the bowels of the airport where employees go.
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In an apartment on California St., in San Francisco, I was telling my roommate this guy might call to take me out to dinner sometime. The phone begins to ring; I knew it was he..I just knew it and so soon too. My roommate, Christa, lifts up an eyebrow. "Are you going to answer?"
"Not today!"
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That was the day Swiss man met Southern Belle camouflaged as a hippie. Five years later, my email address would read "MrsSwiss". Who would have "thunk" it? :-)

The Tongue in Cheek Gothic Style Escapades of a TWA Flight Attendant

Part A: "The Lighthouse"

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If there is one thing I like to do is to drive. I'm not talking about boring interstate driving. I'm talking about driving when the knuckles on the steering wheel are white. The time period is early '70's.

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On a cliff at the North side of an island in the state of Hawaii, stands a lighthouse. My two fellow flight attendant friends and I contemplated a fragile trail that lay before us. Years of erosion had not only gutted the surface of the dirt road, it was listing toward the menacing waves of the Pacific Ocean. The treacherous track braced itself on the rocky hillside, hoping that by hanging on to its edge, it could prevent its very existence from slipping into the reaching arms of the violent pool below. Yeah, it seemed like a fun road. I, the elected driver, pressed forward, not quite convinced the road's width would sustain us, but what the heck...

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Around a bend and then another, we felt the beckoning call of the lighthouse. We teetered, tottered struggling to answer. Another corner executed, we burst upon a automobile hanging precariously on the side of the cliff. The left front wheel of the vehicle was spinning midair readying itself to dive into creamy white foam while hungry peaks stretched to grant its wish. A six pack of beer in the car confirmed that a bumbling buffoon and his comrads were aching to swim.

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Turning our auto around was an advent! We inched ourselves carefully toward the opposite direction. Although the hillock staunchly stood its ground, the mischievous mist teased us with spray. White knuckles withstanding , we prevailed, and the three of us cheered.

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Later in time, I would try to convince my husband, who was on a business trip in Honolulu, to invade the elusive lighthouse on the north side of the island. Albeit, I received a lecture on his being responsible for the rental car, bla, bla, bla. One of us has to be practical; so let it be Ruedi. If there is a thrill driving on the interstate, let him do that too.

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Over these years, my thoughts have intermittently returned to a lighthouse and a beat up road in Oahu. I wonder...are they still there? The old lighthouse...is whispering!

;-)

Heading down to Florida

I have hinted before that when my sister and I travel together, "things" happen. What are rare bumps in the road for others are common hits for us. We're use to it.

The big plan: I left with my middle daughter on the morning of the 29th of July, from Mountain Home, AR, to Memphis, TN. At Diana's home we changed cars and transferred luggage to her Town and Country. (bigger vehicle) Off to Clarksville, TN, to Annaliese's and Bret's home, we drove to deposit Robin. Robin will be staying with one sister, then the other, Haley, in Mount Juliet, TN, with the "feels like" a dozen or so children. Andrew's and Haley's four are all adorable and all energetic. (I hope Robin takes her vitamins.)

We left Clarksville, TN, at 19:20 to begin our non stop drive to Long Key Boat, FL. Yes, it was still on the 29th of July. We talked about how grateful the cop did not give my sister a ticket for speeding on the way to Clarksville, TN, and for the most part we expected a routine drive.

A few hours later, leaving the gas station, I returned onto the ramp of Interstate 75 heading NORTH. Fortunately, the GPS lady hooted and hollered that now we had to travel 12 miles before turning around. Okay.

We stopped at another gas station at the turn around because we had not gotten gas at the other gas station where I had miss directed myself. Car fueled, we fired up Diana's car, and it only sputtered. It was getting morning, so the AAA tow truck found us easy and booted the battery.

We were on the road again. So excited were we that two senior citizens could pull an all nighter. The all nighter was going to continue, as our hotel room was not ready.

All right, we'll do lunch; Diana realized one of her sandals had been left at one of the gas stations. No "problemo"...; she had her bed room slippers. After lunch at the Colombian Restaurant at Sarasota Beach, FL, our car barely started, and we began thinking oh, oh.

At the hotel, it died again. With the help of a good Samaritan with battery cables, we headed to Wally World, (Walmart). We laughed that we drove many hours just to shop at Walmart because that is what we do...just one of those little bumps in our road. And, yes, we have a new battery. Thank you, Walmart!

At 18:00, we scrambled toward the ocean. Talking to each other while briskly walking to the bridge that connects to the beach, we nearly became part of a bride's entourage for her wedding. As the wedding planner signalled the bride to cross the bridge, we backed away carefully and quickly. That was almost an oops!

The good news...


No sharks at the beach... :-)

Tired and grateful that we could sit down at the hotel's restaurant, the server informed us that the hotel's restaurant had closed for the evening. Oh, another litte mole hill on our fun road of life...

Diana's car, (thanks to Wally World), was drivable. We found a place to eat supper at 21:45, returning to the hotel at 23:00.

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We sisters were grooving!!!
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We also slept until 11:15 AM the next day.
:-D

If You Love Cats!

My sister, Diana, has a cat that she just found out has cancer of the ear drum. It would be a $1500.00 bill on his surgery, and she' s facing a choice.

This is a picture of her cat, Cassius Clay.
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That reminds me of another poem I wrote way back when. I thought about my cat, and as I sometimes do, I write down my feelings, so here it goes.

This poem, written April 20, 1981, is titled

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"MIDNIGHT"

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In memory of my old, grey cat,

For when she was angry

Oh how she would spat!

Quite independent she was her own boss.

Majestically her head she would toss.

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Though she loved me

She would strive not to show

That behind her lioness roar

Was a kitten kind of love.

No begging, no pleading, she demanded respect.

Certainly not, was she a plain, old cat.

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Oh how I loved her!

I miss her so.

I miss her growl, her courage, her purr.

Midnight, please won't you come back?

Show me that nine lives

Is a matter of fact?

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Show me with those daring eyes

That you dare to live,

Oh not to die!

But alas, my old cat, you really have gone,

Gone from the homestead,

Gone from my arms.

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Watch out Cat Heaven for my old cat.

She'll be a queen; I'm sure of that.

Good-bye Midnight; I loved you

Did you not know?

I wish I could have shown you

Those times before.

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Later years, I shall often smile

When I think of you, full of life,

Those old angry eyes.

You were my incredibly fearless cat.

Oh yes, and, Midnight,

I can still hear that spat!

The end.

The Blessings of a Sister

A quote from former First Lady, Laura Bush in her book, Spoken from the Heart...

"I remember as a small girl looking up at the darkening night sky, waiting for the stars to pop out one by one. I would watch for that first star, for its faint glow., because then I could make my wish. And my wish on a star any time that I wished on a star was that I would have brothers and sisters."


In the 1970's I wrote this little poem about my sister. Our father had passed away in 1949 at the age of 25, so it was only our working mother, my baby sister and me.

"SISTER"

To the gentleness soul I'll ever know,

To the one I love so much.

Of all the souls in the Universe

I know whose soul would care the most.

That of my sweet sister, that of my closest kin.

And no matter what I've ever done;

No matter what I'll do,

I know whose love will stay with me,

When all the trials are through.

This gentle soul will hold my hand

Until Heaven opens its door,

And only then will I leave her side

Because I already know.

We'll see each other at our Heavenly home

By our Father's welcoming arms!

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The end.