Tuesday 24 November 2015.
When I was a child, learning and looking forward into my discovery of time and the calendar, I thought, and felt, that the year 2000 was far, far away. I knew that I had a chance of living to see the day when we said that was our year, our time, our date, but I also knew I would have to wait a long, long time to get there.
We got there. I got there. The night that 1999 changed into 2000, our family gathered in the desert at the little mobile/modular trailer/house my mother used to own, where she and my stepfather spent so many pleasant weekends and holidays throughout the twenty-nine years of their happy marriage.
That particular weekend – Friday 31 December to Monday 3 January – my brothers and sisters and nephews and nieces nearly all of them and some cousins too I think came down to Borrego Springs and we all slept over for one or two or three nights, spread out through the three bedrooms and living room of my mom’s house, as well as out in stepfather Herb’s motor home, and, I might not remember rightly, but I think somehow Mom actually rented another house nearby for a couple nights. All told I think there were twenty or thirty of us – my memory is fading now that fifteen years have gone by – almost sixteen, come to think of it.
My aunt Virginia had left this life by then, I am sorry to say. Mom had such good years in the 1980s and thereabouts (thenabouts) getting to be friends with her sister all over again – they lived in the same desert-club complex (the Roadrunner) for twenty some years, from the late seventies to the nineties. They played tennis together and went to the clubhouse pool, and for ten years or so also volunteered as summer campground hosts at Mammoth Lakes, along with their husbands, of course, my uncle Lester and stepfather Herb.
Those were good years. As I sit here writing, I give thanks for such a blessing, and glad that after all it did take so very long to get to 2000 from 1950.