(Mom wasn't kidding - seriously long. But special!)
Today is Pete's
birthday. He was the first born in his
family and the only child to survive longer than a day or so. His mother was RH negative. I understand that they can do things now days
to counterbalance the effect of the RH negative factor, but 88 years ago a
woman with the RH factor was lucky to have any children at all.
I wonder what Pete would
think about my life over the past 26 years.
It seems hard to believe I have actually been to Australia seven times,
to Hawaii and even Tahiti. Easter
weekend always puts me in mind of my last - and final - trip Down Under, back
in 1995.
It was very exciting. Scott and I were to fly down together,
basically straight through, which I had never done before. We'd get there in time for Christmas, then
Scott would return to college in BA after new year. Elsa planned on coming down in April to help
celebrate Mike & Kerry's 25th wedding anniversary and see me home.
Close to the time Scott
& I were supposed to take off, we discovered that due to changes in the
Medicare law, neither Medicare nor my supplemental health insurance would cover
me outside of the country. I was set to
call the whole thing off, but Mike was able to arrange health insurance for me,
so off we flew.
The one time I went down
without health care coverage was, of course, the one time I needed it.
A longtime non-functioning kidney up &
decided to become inflamed. Up here in
the USA, it would not be considered a pre-existing condition (where "pre-existing"
is a condition active within the past 12 months). This problem hadn't bothered me in well over
fifty years. To make a long story short,
the Australian company holding the policy gave coverage a thumbs down.
I faced a dilemma - have
surgery to remove the kidney down there or put it off until I got back to the
USA, where Medicare et al would pick up the bill. I'd already run up a $7,000 (Australian) bill
for the preliminary work and I hated the thought of saddling Mike & Kerry – who
had promised me and pledged to the Australian government they'd cover any health care costs, should I need care – with more expenses. This left me in a pickle.
I thought about it and
thought about it and decided I would put myself in training and have the
surgery back in the States, which is exactly what I did. My plan was to fly to California, where Elsa
would meet me (rather than going all the way down to Australia, then turning
around to head back home), take a few days R&R, then fly home to BA and
surgery at Holy Redeemer.
Knowing me as well as she
does, Elsa strongly suggested changing my destination from Los Angeles to San
Francisco, where I have far more ties and special memories. As is her style, Elsa researched various
places to stay, then gave me a choice - a quiet inn on Half Moon Bay or a small
hotel in the City, just off Union Square.
Elsa assumed I
would opt for Half Moon Bay, but there was never a question in my mind - San
Francisco. Once I made my choice, a steady
stream of clippings about things to do arrived in the mail. Reading them kept my spirits up, even if we would
not be able to do any of them.
Ever the practical one, Elsa found a cozy hotel just around the corner from Borders' Union Square book
store, so she could have some time to herself while I rested back in the hotel.
To get in shape, I walked
back and forth and back and forth on the deck of Mike & Kerry's house and up and down and up and down their
stairs. By departure time - the Thursday before Easter - I was in acceptable shape.
Never will I forget
realizing we were standing in the wrong line as we stood at the airport,
waiting to check in. There we were - Kerry
and Karen and myself – somehow standing in the line for lushy-plushy Connisseur
class line, rather than Tourist. When I realized the error,
I tried to head over to right (long) line, but Kerry said we should not go to
more fuss than need be. When we got to
the head of the line, I explained to the person behind the counter that I had
goofed and we were in the wrong line, that I needed to head over to
Tourist. The person checked the list and
said, no, that I was down for Connisseur. There must be a mistake, I
protested. No, said the woman, quite
firmly - - a nice lady had arranged it.
I looked around at Kerry
and there she was, with a big cheeky grin on her face. What I liked the most was what happened next
- Karen asked her, "Mum, why did you do that?" A good question, since it must have cost a
pretty penny. Kerry replied, and I will
always remember, "Because your Nan is so wonderful."
Well, I could have flown
home on those words alone!
Connisseur class was a
never-to-be-forgotten experience. There
is no comparison between it and Tourist.
Normally, the last six hours in the air are something to be borne as
well as you can. I could not believe it
when they said that we would be touching down at San Francisco International in
45 minutes! And the meals are served in
courses, on china with real glassware.
The service cannot be beat. I thought
that I would be completely worn out when we touched down, but I almost felt
refreshed.
It was wonderful to see
Elsa's face as an attendant wheeled me out of the Custom's "holding
pen." Kerry had prepared her that I
was a shadow of my former self, so she was startled to find me fairly fit and
in good spirits. (More about good spirits
later.)
I was so surprised to open
the door to our hotel room and find the pillow of my bed covered with some
stuffies from home. Elsa thought they
would perk up my spirits. They did, oh
they did. I settled down around 11:00
a.m. for a long nap and Elsa headed out for a browse at Borders.
When I got up, we headed
down to the afternoon tea being held in the lobby. When Elsa asked what I wanted to do next,
head back for some more rest, lounge around the lobby, or head out, I jumped at
heading out. To Elsa's amazement, I skipped the taxi and insisted on taking a cable car (I
hadn't been in one since that last fateful trip with Pete) up to the Fairmount and the Tonga Room.
The Tonga Room, as described
in a clipping Elsa sent, was much like the Kona Kai in Philadelphia, a favorite
spot in the '50s and '60s. It was decked out South Seas-style and had an ersatz "tropical
storm" every 15 minutes. I loved it
- and ordered my first "good spirits" of the day - bourbon on the rocks, with a splash of water.
Next up - the Fairmount's
Crown Room, at the top of the hotel, overlooks the bay, the Golden
Gate Bridge (“Golden Gate” describes the land formation, not the bridge. The first time I was in San Francisco, there was a Golden Gate, but no bridge!),
and out to the Pacific. It was around
7:15 p.m. by the time I finished off my 2nd "good spirits" of the
day and my question, “What’s next?”
Elsa looked concerned and strongly suggesting
heading back to our hotel for me to get some rest. “Where did you plan for us to have dinner?” I
pushed. She ‘fessed up to having made
8:00 p.m. reservations at The Fog City Diner, but protested that she had
thought that we should pack it in for the day.
As Elsa would say, no how, no way I was heading back to our hotel and what she considered my well-earned
rest.
The door man grabbed us a cab
and off we went to Embarcadero and the Fog City Diner. Mind you, it is nothing like the typical
diner, nothing like Daddypop’s in Hatboro or even The Classic Diner in
Fraser. It is a world famous, top notch
establishment. We had a wonderful dinner
and I enjoyed my 3rd 'good spirits' of
the day.
The evening was capped off
with a stroll from the Fog City Diner at the tip of the Embarcadero to the
Grand Hyatt at the southern end, where we judiciously had a strong cup of good
black coffee, sitting in stunned admiration in the hotel’s soaring atrium,
before flagging a
cab home.
Not bad for someone who
had flown in from Sydney just that morning. (I can hear my s-i-l
joshing, “Gee, your arms must be sore.”)
The next day I slept late,
then we took a long, lingering walk. We gloried in the displays
at the Flower Show at Macy's Union Square and the fantastic $$$ merchandise at
Neiman- Marcus, which had a special display of Bunnies By the Bay (the bay
referred to is in Washington State).
The super whimsical
Bunnies By the Bay display featured at least a dozen exquisitely dressed,
stuffed bunnies. In their dress and gentility,
they looked like Jane Austin merged with Beatrix Potter. The largest was around 18” high, with the
smallest considerably smaller. The
charming sight set us off on spinning a tail - oops, tale - about how all of
these bunnies had gathered at their tea party to honor Aunt March, a bunny back
at our hotel room.
We had a lovely day, going
out, then back for a snooze, then out again for dinner at a terrific seafood restaurant (I
love seafood) called The Half Shell.
I went to bed a happy
lady.
The
next day was Easter. Elsa was up
early. With my blessing, she headed out on her own.
By 7:15 a.m., she was on a cable car heading up Nob Hill then down to
Aquatic Park. She wanted to snap some
photos of a few of our stuffies. While
she was positioning them in a small tree with the bay as backdrop, a man tapped
her shoulder and asked if she could step back so he and his wife could get
their own photo of the irresistible models.
I understand completely how they felt!
Elsa knew that the Buena Vista, a restaurant Mike had loved back in the late ‘60s during his
S.F. days, was near Aquatic Park, but
she was surprised to discover that it served breakfast. Around 9:00ish, she rang to see if I was interested in
heading over. Was I ever! I leaped out of bed and was ready just about
the time she arrived back, then we were back on a cable car and off to the Buena
Vista.
The restaurant that had
been practically deserted when Elsa got there was bustling when we
arrived. People were sharing tables,
which I thought would be special fun. Guess where the couple at our table hailed
from? Warminster, 15 minutes up the road
from our home.
Easter dinner was at The
Acorn Tea & Griddle. I remember
wonderful smoked salmon.
Both Elsa & I wanted
to do something special for supper, since we were leaving the next
morning. We had planned on heading back
to the Buena Vista, but the city that had been practically deserted on Friday
night and Saturday was brimming over with people by Sunday night.
We managed to wangle our
way onto a packed cable car, but getting off near the Fairmount was another
matter. One man finally said,
"Lady, you just have to push your way through." Elsa said she practically collapsed when I
said in my most genteel voice - "Sir, I was not raised that
way." And a path immediately opened
up to let me pass through and two gentlemen stepped down to help us off!
Our hopes of going back to
the Crown Room, which I had thoroughly enjoyed, were dashed when we saw people
waiting 12-deep around the one elevator.
Neither of us wanted our evening to end on a whimper, but it was looking
like that might be the case when Elsa remembered a restaurant down in the
bowels of the hotel.
We headed down to
Belle Vocce and - surprise - there were no crowds, just a very attractive
hostess waiting by the door. Elsa and I
were both stunned when she caught sight of Elsa and, grinning from ear to ear,
said with complete delight, "You DID bring your mother!" Seems that Elsa had stopped by very briefly
on Thursday morning checking out places I might like and had taken a quick look
around. The young woman remembered!
Well, after a reception
like that, we knew we had struck pay dirt.
The food was great and it turned out that the service staff doubled as
opera singers, so we had the ultimate floor show. It seemed like all the waiters and waitresses stopped by
to meet me and fuss over me and I had my picture taken with the hostess (who
was a fabulous contralto) which hangs right outside my bedroom door. I felt like a celebrity.
No wonder we chose to walk
back to our hotel; I think our feet hardly touched the pavement, we
were so happy.
On this grey, raw Easter
weekend, it pleases this old Grammie to remember a sunny, bright and warm
Easter weekend in my beloved City by the Bay.
Am pretty groggy after
this marathon session. Am up the wooden
hill and so to bed!
Just wondering - is there
a city that YOU have special fondness for?
If you do, I would love to hear about it.
Love to all - CyberGram
