An Unveiling

As I prepare to undertake a 3500 mile road trip back to Massachusetts, children, grandchildren, my family, Ada's family, great friends, and a small, beautiful Jewish cemetery in Lebanon, NH, I realize how far I've come emotionally these past three months or so.

Previously I would have labeled this trip "Going Home" but now, frankly, it feels like I'm leaving home. I live on the Florida Panhandle, not on the South Shore, not in the beautiful community of Eastman in Grantham, NH. I'm a Floridian now. That much is clear to me.

In just a few short months I've settled into this magnificent part of the country. I find myself caring about SEC football. How's 'Bama gonna be this year? Roll Tide! Think we can repeat? What about them Gators? Auburn and Ole' Miss can just go to hell! Go Dawgs!

I'm devastated by what's taking place on the Gulf. It will affect the livelihoods of thousands of people for years to come. I feel their pain not as an onlooker or a vacationer but as a neighbor.

I'm starting to expand my diet to include more seafood. A grouper po' boy sounds good to me, not too exotic or too country, just good. I'm looking forward to trying etouffee.

At my golf club I'm beginning to be known. I've got some "regulars" with whom I look forward to playing. I'm comfortable enough around them that I can bust their chops in the age-old golfer's fashion. I enjoy it when they give it back to me, which they certainly do...often!

I'm a three-hour's drive from New Orleans and will undoubtedly tour that fine old city one day as many residents of The Panhandle do. I'm established with a local doctor and a local dentist, both of whom are terrific, easy going professionals. Neither went to Harvard or Tufts but, evidently, there are other institutions that offer medical and dental degrees. Who knew?

When Kate and I head over to the bar of the Acme Oyster House near Kate's Sandestin home, the bartender already knows our order. A dozen grilled Apalachicola oysters, some crusty bread to sop up the juices, and a chardonnay and we're good to go.

Of course I haven't entirely abandoned everything I was before I landed here. Nor should I. I still live and die with all the Boston sports teams, and I always will. I read the Globe online each morning to see which Massachusetts legislator is about to be indicted, (although usually not on murder charges as was one of the county commissioners down here recently) I watch MSNBC regularly in the evenings and find Rachel Maddow to be particularly excellent. I seriously doubt there are many other "Panhandlers" tuned to that channel in the evening: Kate and I, an army of two! My friends will always be my friends. You know who you are.

There can be no doubt that having Kate in my life has made this transition much easier than it would have been otherwise. While Kate has spent a good part of her adult life in other parts of Florida, she is a relative newcomer to this part of the state. Family ties brought her to the area and it didn't take long for her to learn what The Panhandle has to offer. She's eager to share some of her "hidden gems" with me and I am a very willing student.

The title of this blog refers to the primary reason for my journey back to New England. As is customary in Jewish tradition, Ada's grave marker will be unveiled. Ada's brother, Bob, has prepared a beautiful service, and he will officiate. This will happen at noon on Sunday, June 20, at the Upper Valley Jewish Cemetery in Lebanon, NH. Some people view these unveilings as difficult ceremonies that force the loved ones to relive the funeral and all the grief that went with it.

I don't feel that way. Ada's unveiling is an opportunity for me and our family to take stock of where we are nine months after our dear Ada passed and to remind ourselves about what a wonderful person we lost.

Any opportunity to do both of those activities is fine with me.