His Odyssey Ends

Odysseus lent his name to the word we use for a long, arduous journey. According to legend, for ten years after the Trojan War, Odysseus tried to make his way home buffeted by stormy seas and whimsical gods. It's been a while since I read Homer's work, but I do remember something about a dim-witted Cyclops with a serious need for a creative optometrist and Scylla and Charybdis, the original "between a rock and a hard place." Endowed with a quick wit (it was Odysseus who came up with the idea of the Trojan Horse thus ending the interminable Trojan War) and an abundance of courage, Odysseus eventually returned home to his beloved wife Penelope and his son Telemachos.

I would like to propose a new name for a long, interesting journey. Nobody knows how to spell o-d-y-s-s-e-y anyway and most people don't know its derivation. Therefore, with appropriate apologies for being just a bit self-indulgent (As I recall, Odysseus was somewhat stuck on himself as well), I propose that a modern journey with a full measure of tragedies and triumphs henceforth be known as a "Joel".

I'm depending on all of you to make this happen. Lobby Mr. Webster and Ms. Random House and get them to agree. Tell them the J's need help; there hasn't been a new J added since jell-o!

I'm thinking and blogging about all this because I believe I may have reached a safe harbor here, and my odyssey and this blog are nearing their logical conclusions. My odyssey began in January when I accepted an offer on my NH condo. At that time, I didn't know where I would be living in April, whether I'd be able to ever walk a golf course due to a ruptured quad tendon suffered in September, how to make macaroni and cheese (I still don't), whether I'd ever want a woman's friendship again. These and many other questions have been answered during these past four months. Certainly new questions will arise, but I believe I will be able to tackle them "on my own" from here on in.

Here are some of the more cogent questions (and their answers) that I, Joel Oy-Dysseus Getman have encountered on this four-month...ahh..."Joel":

1. Is there a good barbeque joint in Navarre, Florida?
Yes, the East River Smokehouse is as good as it gets. It's got a roadhouse feel to it; there are always at least a couple of Harleys sitting outside; you can smell the tangy smoke the minute you walk in the place. The waitresses will call you "Hon" or "Darlin'" and pretend they know you even when they don't. Top of the line barbeque joint!

2. Is Navarre Beach all it's cracked up to be as far as beaches go?
Definitely. It is quite simply one of the most beautiful beaches I've ever seen. The color and purity of the Gulf here are amazing. The water is a gorgeous shade of turquoise and 100% clear. The magnificent dunes are protected and, down where I live, there are no restaurants, high rises, bathhouses, or crowds to detract from the purity of the beach. You could walk all the way to Pensacola Beach (over 20 miles) from where I live and never step on a pebble or see anything that shouldn't already be there.

3. Are male golf club members in Florida similar to male golf club members in New Hampshire?
Exactly the same. Within five minutes of arriving at either course, you will be greeted warmly; you will hear someone complaining about his own or someone else's handicap; you will be told an outrageously politically incorrect joke; and you will receive little or no sympathy when you play horribly. What more could you want?

4. What about female golf club members in Florida and New Hampshire?
While I have not as yet met any of the female golfers at my Florida golf club, I do not see how it would be remotely possible for them to be as wonderful as the women golfers at Eastman Golf Links in Grantham, NH. Sorry, ladies, but this I know to be true! The women golfers at Eastman are among the most kind, compassionate, generous, helpful, and just plain nice people on this green Earth. During Ada's three-year battle, they were always asking to help us in any way they could, even if that meant leaving us alone from time to time. They brought meals, they took walks, they called and they emailed. They drove Ada to the hospital or picked her up when necessary. They visited or stayed away as the situation required. They never gave up on Ada and, I am quite sure, they were a big part of her having the courage to go on as she did. Their random acts of kindness served to light up many a dark passage during my four-month journey. As far as I'm concerned, this light will never go out.

5. Am I worried about my family now that there is half a country separating us?
Yes and no. I would worry about my family if they lived next door. You must remember, I was raised in the Jewish culture. Worrying obsessively about those we love is part of our DNA. But here is something else this journey has taught me: it would be impossible for me to feel any prouder of my sons, my daughter-in-law, and my twin grandkids than I already do. They all encouraged this adventure and they have shared in its joys and sorrows. Will I worry about them? Of course. Do I have to? Absolutely not!

6. Can Navarre Beach ever feel like home?
It already does. I look forward to each day. I revel in the glorious weather and natural beauty of the place. I am eager to explore a new relationship with Kate (you probably knew it really wasn't Sally). If home is a place you look forward to returning to after a long journey, then this indeed is home.

7. Is there any way for Ada to know how my journey has ended?
Of course. It was Ada who kept the snow away when I left New Hampshire. It was Ada who helped me navigate the Washington Beltway in record time. It was Ada who made sure my room was clean in the Emporia, Virginia Quality Inn. It was Ada who kept me safe as I traveled to Venice, Florida and then on to the Panhandle. And it is Ada who is smiling as I pick up the phone to find out whether Kate's newest grandchild has arrived.

Thank you all for sharing this journey with me. I am such a lucky traveler.

Much love,
J