Journal: 05/04/06

I finally got some real sleep last night. I’ve been stressed over the money situation and now that its resolved, if only temporarily, I went to bed at 1:30 AM instead of 4:00 AM, and slept through until I awoke at 12:00 PM. I’m sure the stress will return, there are bills to pay and money to find, for the moment though, I can breathe again. Having Joann’s ashes home seems to make the apartment a little less lonely. I got up this morning and even though I was alone, I could imagine her being there as well. It’s a little crazy maybe; I’ll get over it eventually as I continue to adjust to her not actually being there. At least I’m feeling as though I am getting a grip again, and that’s a good thing.

Three Years at Snug Harbor

Today is the third anniversary of the date Joann, Bill and I moved into the upstairs apartment here at the motel. We happily inhabited the huge 2-bedroom apartment with a dining room, full-sized country kitchen and large bathroom for two-and-a-half years until the owners decided to remodel in 2005, cutting the apartment up into three large motel rooms. It’s the place where Joann and I were married in October 2004 and the scene of many happy Thanksgivings, Christmases with a tall, real tree and Easters with egg coloring and ham dinners. We moved out at the end of October 2005, storing the large amount of belongings we accumulated in the motel’s unused poolroom.

During the remodeling, Bill lived in a standard 1-bed room, Joann and I in another. The remodel took four months, during which time the owners built a large, well kitchen-equipped studio downstairs underneath our old place for Joann and I. Bill would move into the small single-bed room directly across from us with his own key to our place, so he could retain the use of our kitchen and remain a part of our little family. In the end, Bill was instrumental in watching over Joann in her final stages when I had to go to work in the time before I took a month off to keep care of her. We all moved into our respective places by February 6, 2006, and three days later, Joann went on her last trip to the hospital.

Joann loved the fact that the owners built a place just for us, and according to my specifications too. To her, this was her house, a place made for her and I. It was one of the reasons home-hospice, when the VNA offered it, was so attractive to her. She could live out the rest of her life in her new home, secure in the knowledge that it was truly built for her and I. Dying at home held a completely new meaning for her.

We named the original apartment Snug Harbor after an ancient building in Monterey, on Del Monte Ave., by lake El Estero, that was the old fisherman’s retirement home, "Snug Harbor" prominently displayed over the entrance door.. Snug Harbor, in that incarnation, was a place where indigent, elderly fishermen were placed at county expense to live out their lives in some comfort. Today it is a place where indigent, elderly farm workers live out their lives.

For Joann, Bill and I, Snug Harbor had a special meaning, it was—for us—a safe harbor in a raging economic storm where we had no place. Without the three of us, none of us could have rented the upstairs apartment, much less maintained it. It took the three of us together, to make it work. The apartment became our "Snug Harbor."

Look for the Backstory entry tomorrow for a clearer explanation of Snug Harbor.

Bill set up a special night for us when I got home from work tonight. He bought cards for the anniversary, one from Bill and I to Joann and one from Bill to me. I thought the former card was very sweet; he wasn’t sure that including Joann in the remembrance festivities was appropriate, I assured him that in every anniversary in the future, we would always include her; after all, we are still a family.