Time Out

I am writing at the dining room table at Eric and Pam's apartment in New York City. The room is dark because Pam is still sleeping and the air conditioner hums like the ship's engines. I am holding on tight, as the whole room is rocking and spinning. During the last few days at sea I sometimes would forget that I am on a ship, as my brain and body had adjusted to the continuous movement. Now, on land, I am feeling worse than on the roughest days, my whole system adjusting to the stillness of my new environment.

I boarded the ship at noon in Southampton on September 20th, and I disembarked at 11am, yesterday, September 27. This passage, in all the senses of the word, was one of the best things I ever did for myself. On a superficial level, of course, I had the time of my life. I had been dreaming of crossing the Atlantic on an ocean liner since I was a child, and I now was living the romance and the glamor of sailing on a beautiful ship. However, my soul and my heart were cruising on an equally powerful journey. Over the last 35 years I must have flown across the Atlantic on average once a year. I have much complained about the long journey, and I have boasted about the pleasing effects of happy pills, which make the trip feel short and painless. During all those years I had no idea of how big the Atlantic Ocean really is. The journey lasted 6 days and 7 nights.

A ship like the Queen Mary 2 offers innumerable distractions and opportunities to kill time. I hardly had time to partake in any of them. For me it was a once in a lifetime opportunity to do nothing, or to have nothing that needed to be done. Every night I would circle on the daily program various enriching activities. In the end I spent much time just being, staring out at the water, processing this new turn in my life, trying to let Europe, Zuoz, the bakery and my aunt go, trying not to worry about my new life.

Out of over 2,000 passengers, we were just about 100 single travelers - meaning it was impossible to spot them between the 13 decks and some 1,000 feet in length. I had boarded with no expectations of finding a buddy. All I was hoping for was a daily yoga class, and interesting companions at the dinner table. I ended up taking 2 yoga classes, one with each of the 2 instructors. They were ok, it felt good to stretch and move, but they were expensive (as almost everything on board) and of course could not be compared to the quality of Jim's classes. I can't wait to return to my Portland yoga studio! The dinner table, however, was a total success. I was seated at a round table (one of the few in the dining room) with 8 other Swiss, 4 German speaking, 4 French speaking, but all more or less bilingual. One of the "couples" were two men, members of what should have been a group of 6 friends traveling together. Dinners were fun and lively, with the service of the most delightful waiter who had to kick us out each night long after all the other tables were empty to make room for the 2nd dinner service. I would periodically run into one or the other of these couples during the day, have breakfast with these, a cup of coffee with those, go on a "date" to the planetarium , or to the nightly show, or for drinks after the show. It was perfect, as I never felt lonely, but had plenty time for myself alone nevertheless. My table companions were well-traveled, like me younger than the average passengers on the ship, down to earth and playing the glitz game with grace and humor.

The fellow passengers were indeed predominantly retired people, many quite old, and therefore the pace on the ship was very slow, as many had problems walking, all the more so on a rolling ship. Many times I had to slow down my brisk natural pace to wait for a widening in the hallway or the deck to be able to pass an elderly couple. It was a healthy exercise for me: whatever my impatience and my haste, we were all going to get to New York at the same time. So I have promised myself that I will endeavor to keep this feeling on land. I will die when my time comes, no matter how frantically I rush through life. I might as well slow down and enjoy the ride - at least until I find the proverbial job that will put me back into the rat race.

Eric picked me up at the Brooklyn Cruise Terminal. It was wonderful seeing him, hugging him, giving him a big kiss. What better welcome back to America!

Eric already tinkered with my computer, and I am happy to post a few pictures of this unforgettable journey.

Pictures:

Is she gorgeous or what?

The Grand Foyer. This is where one enters the ship, the first impression of the ship. It is in all the senses of the word, out of this world, a microcosm of wealth, civility, courtesy, peace and quiet.

Leaving Southampton. The orchestra on deck 6 is playing New York, among many other tunes to set the right mood

Glamor Irene on her last night on the ship. Dress code was casual elegant. I dressed early and treated myself to a maitai in the piano bar, all by myself, listening to the music and staring at the water.

My ship is coming

I returned from St. Gallen on Saturday night. Yesterday I rested, today I dealt with various personal business, paying bills, picking up the ticket for the trip on the Queen Mary, stocking up on chocolates; tomorrow it's the last trip to St. Gallen to say goodbye to my aunt.

Fortunately one doesn't have to do too often in a lifetime what I went through last week. Having moved my father to a nursing home, and later having watched him die, and now having moved my aunt, I am coming to the conclusion that it's easier to be watching over a dying elderly loved one. The physical work of sorting, packing, moving, carrying, all the items covered with dust accumulated over weeks, and sometimes over decades, the worrying about the physical and emotional well being of the loved one being uprooted and thrown into new surroundings and a new life over which she doesn't have much control, the grieving for the loved one who is no longer the person one was used to, and finally, the grieving for the loss of the last bit of childhood, all the memories dug up in the cleaning out of the apartment... thank God one doesn't have to go through this too often because it's unbearable. I have now cleaned out 4 homes in less than 3 years, two within 2 months. It's too many in too short a time. I trust that I'll never have to do it again.

It all went as well as possible. The retirement home is beautiful, clean, full of light. My aunt's room is big, bright, with just about the same beautiful view as she had from her home. It's large enough to fit all the furniture she was hoping to bring along, as well as her favorite art. The staff is kind, patient and understanding. Still, despite the fact that she understands the impossibility of her now living alone at home, and despite the fact that she wanted to come here, she also knows that this now is her universe until she dies. She knows all she has lost, first of all her independence, the ability to come and go as she pleases. Also very hard on me is the fact that I now have been visiting her once a month for almost two years, cooking for her, shopping for her, looking after her, making her laugh, and I feel like I am abandoning her by returning to my own life. She has become emotionally dependent on me, and I am feeling terrible leaving her. Yet, I must live my own life, whatever it will be. I am dreading tomorrow, I will need all the strength and courage I can muster.

The following 2 days will be spent sorting my own belongings and preparing for shipping everything but the content of one suitcase - which content will have to suffice until the shipment arrives, probably sometime in November. A couple of dinner dates with friends, and then it's my last weekend in Switzerland. The plans are still hazy, as I am hoping to spend it with my sisters, but their own plans are still fluid. Monday I will travel to Geneva for my last night in Switzerland, on Tuesday I'll travel to London to board the ship. Returning by boat is the best decision I have made: for one week I won't have either email or a phone, nobody can find me and upset the peace and quiet I will seek during the journey. I can truly transition from my Swiss life to whatever is expecting me in the United States.

Today I picked up my ticket and finally got the entertainment program of the trip. There'll be a masquerade - and let me tell you that 6 days before sailing my mind is focused on other issues than costumes and masks and other such frivolities!

Once again, thank you for your supportive emails and comments. My computer time is very limited and I can respond only to the most urgent messages. Writing a page for my blog is a rare treat - thank you Carole for lending me your computer!

My Place

It's a rare quiet day. I am stocking up on strength for this week's job: tomorrow I'll travel to St. Gallen and stay there until Saturday. My aunt has miraculously recovered and is getting stronger by the day. Her mind has cleared, she is again walking and she is actively participating in her imminent move to the retirement home. She still is in the hospital, taking advantage of the good care she is getting there, the physical therapy, the well-balanced meals, the adjusted meds. Her breathing is the best it's been since I arrived in Switzerland and her anxiety level has decreased accordingly. She definitely is strong enough to avoid the nursing home and is therefore moving to the retirement home in her neighborhood where her friends and neighbors will easily be able to visit. She is actually looking forward to it. The situation couldn't be any better. I have been visiting her once a week, each time also going to her apartment to check the mail and make phone calls to deal with her impending move. I have visited the retirement home, talked to the director, seen her banking advisor. Her friends are a great support, also for me, giving me rides, inviting me for meals when I stay overnight. The moving van arrives tomorrow afternoon, on Wednesday we move her, and then my sisters and I have another 3 days to clear out her apartment. It will be hard to leave her, but right now I feel that she is doing so well that she'll live to be 100 and I am confident that I'll see her again.

Oops... got carried away... It is true that my aunt is front and fore in my mind. When I return from St. Gallen on Saturday I'll have just one more week in Switzerland and will have to deal with my own move back to the US, the sorting and shipping of my goods. I was hoping to surf the internet to find a car to purchase upon my arrival in Portland, but obviously I didn't have the means nor the time to do that and so will have to deal with it when I arrive.

The last 3 weeks have been a mixture of sad, emotional, but also warm, fun and rewarding times. My aunt's illness has been difficult for me, both from an emotional and a logistical point of view. My body paid the price for the tension, and I had to add Neuchatel to the list of places in the world where I had to find a chiropractor. As always, she did her magic and I am now pain free. These people are the best!

Also among the best is the Aubert family with whom I am staying. They are letting me stay in a huge room where I am very comfortable. They are increasingly feeling like family. I am free to come and go as I please, there never is any pressure to stay or to go. I am welcome at the family table whenever. I am invited to go out with them, or to stay when they have guests. In addition to generous and healthy meals, they provide counseling and moral support. I am also getting to know them better. I am contributing when and where I can. Several times I acted as a patient for daughter Carole's practice for her finals for medical school. I spent a morning translating cases from her English book so that non-English speaking friends could also be mock patients. It is a pleasure to observe how well father and daughter are working together - first Jacques, the father, with his own GP practice helping her with the exercises for her finals, and now the daughter, who tomorrow night after the last exam will be legally allowed to practice medicine, helping Dad in his office while he is hobbling around on crutches after breaking a leg in a biking accident...

Unfortunately I still can't post pictures to this blog, since I cannot download them from my camera onto someone else's computer. Perhaps I'll retroactively add some pics to the posts once I am in New York. I can already see that my stay in New York will be way too short. I can't wait to be sailing past the Statue of Liberty on my majestic ocean liner, and to be greeted by Eric at the harbor!

Since a picture is worth a thousand words, and since there won't be any pictures for now, I am condemned to write. The weather has been mostly good since my last post and there have been many pleasant hours in beautiful areas in great company: Eliane took me swimming in Lake Neuchatel of which the temperature had risen to 23 C (73 F). When I was a kid we were not allowed to swim in the lake because it was too polluted. Swimming pools had been built here and there on the shore. They are now all gone, because the water, thanks to sewage treatment plants, is once more clear and absolutely safe.

Anne-Marie took me on another great hike, near Interlaken. We gained most of the elevation with a cable car, and before starting off, enjoyed a coffee in the garden of one of these mountain restaurants, with views over to the Bernese Alps, Interlaken, the lakes of Thun and Brienz... all just like on the postcard. I traveled to Basel, where I had not been since I was 16 years old. There I visited friend Denise with whom I had worked in the early 70s in Geneva. We had taken several trips together, Spain, Algeria, Greece... and now had 35 years worth of catching up to do. She showed me the old part of Basel, a very beautiful city, but we spent most of our precious time together on her deck, chatting. It is so rewarding to reconnect with friends when they have had a good life, and are well and happy. Basel is a very rich city, where several Swiss pharmaceutical companies have their headquarters, and as a consequence has a number of famous museums... none of which I had the time to visit.

Periodically I am seeing my sisters, one, or the other, or both, here in Le Landeron, or in the mountains. It is always fun and warm and I will miss them terribly when our ways will part once again. Brigitte and I finally managed to go on a good hike together, catching a nice day. There have been a number of spectacularly violent thunder storms, with dramatic drops in temperatures and fresh snow almost down to the tree line. I experienced one of these storms in the tiny chalet of friend Pierre, above Neuchatel. Thank God for stringent construction codes. Sheets of rain were blown across the porch, lightning crisscrossing the sky turned dark way before nightfall. An impressive show. The storms have ushered in fall. The forest has started to turn, the yellow jackets are out in droves. The light has a new softness - which I enjoyed all day Saturday hiking with Pierre along the Doubs, the river marking the border north of Neuchatel between Switzerland and France. Numerous herons, swans, king fishers, a peregrine falcon, fish jumping. This is the Jura, less dramatic than the Alps, but dearly loved and appreciated by us, the locals. Pasture land cut into sections by stone walls, dotted with the characteristic huge hemlocks.

Next picture: a trip to the Geneva area, a lovely day with Paul, taking the boat over to the medieval city of Yvoire on the French side, and saying goodbye. Our paths had crossed once again after meeting in Canada 35 years ago, and now life is again taking us back to our respective countries, he to Canada, I to the US. We were at opposite ends of the country and didn't see each other often, but during the difficult months when I as slaving away at the bakery, he was a skype lifeline.

Last but not least, yesterday, a rainy day with Christiane and Gilbert. Picnic on a bench a mere 5 minutes from the car just before it started to pour for good, and then the afternoon in the museum Latenium, which didn't exist when I was a kid. During the construction of the freeway they found innumerable artifacts from life along the lake dating back several thousands of years. Christiane, a retired teacher, did a great guiding job, picking out the key information, explaining...

Almost 40 years ago I left Neuchatel in search of new horizons, finding Neuchatel boring, attracted by exotic landscapes and cultures. I have never spent as much time in the Neuchatel area since I was 19, and now I am discovering that this actually is not only a very beautiful area, but also very rich in history, culture, arts, as well as in smart, educated, interesting and dedicated people helping the region flourish. I could have found right here what I went searching all over the world.