"I'm Great, Except When I'm Magnificent"

I just had the most incredible week.   My little sister, Brenda, and I just spent six days in Bar Harbor, Brewer and Bangor, Maine. I visited these places as a child once, but remember very few details from that trip as a 6 year old. 

My father, Robert Mayo Robinson, was born in Bar Harbor, then moved to Bangor when he was around 8 years old. He then lived right across the river in Brewer and graduated from Brewer High School in 1958, where he was extremely popular and excelled in both football and baseball. He and his teammates led the "Brewer Witches" to a State Championship in 1957. 

Ever since Dad died 11 years ago, Brenda, myself and our brother, Robbie, have talked about visiting the places Dad grew up.  We've always been so curious about our father.  He rarely spoke about his troubled childhood. 

It was a year of planning, but the time finally came. Since Dad was such an avid runner, running Marathon's across the country, we thought it would be cool to run the Mt. Desert Marathon in Bar Harbor to honor him. 

Our registrations for the race were paid months ago, plane tickets were bought and the hotel was booked.  Unfortunately, due to some last minute scheduling conflicts, Robbie wouldn't be able to make the trip. 

Brenda and I had no intentions of cancelling.  We were disappointed our brother wouldn't be with us, but there was no way we were going to back out.  This was too important to both of us. 

I'm so thankful we saw it through. From the moment we arrived, we were filled with excitement and anticipation. As we drove through Brewer, we kept wondering "Did Dad walk on this street?", "Do you think Dad went here?" "Do you think this building or house was here when Dad was?", "I wonder if he ate at this place?"  It went on and on all day! We were both feeling so connected to him. 

Brenda brought along a letter Dad had received decades ago from one of his many female admirers, so we started there.  The letter was addressed to an address on Holyeoke Street in Brewer.  Thanks to GPS, we easily found the white, two story house! As we sat out front, we imagined him walking in the front door. It was surreal. 

We referred to ourselves as "Nancy Drew Detectives", as we successfully found his high school, the homes he lived in, and discovered his 1957 State Championship Trophy, which stands proudly in the glass case at the now new high school. 

As we drove into Bar Harbor, we passed one of his favorite restaurants, "Lunts", which apparently has the best lobster around. We weren't able to eat there since they were closed. 

Every mile we drove, Dad was on our mind. Every, single one.  

In Bar Harbor, we visited "Sonagee". This is the former Atwater-Kent Estate where our great-grandparents worked as the cook and groundskeeper. Kent Atwater was a wealthy radio inventor tycoon.  Dad spent a lot of time there as a child. He was very close to "Mimi" and "Gaga", as he called them. It's now a nursing home, but that wasn't going to stop us from entering the building and walking the grounds. The same grounds Gaga meticulously took care of with great detail. We saw the boathouse that used to be attached to a pier that stretched over the ocean. Brenda told the story of how Dad, as a young boy, walked to the end of that pier, left his clothes on the dock and hid underneath to scare his parents and grandparents into believing he'd drowned! He was always a prankster. 

We even learned our great-grandfather, "Gaga", had actually been a police officer before taking over the duties at the Atwater-Kent Estate. 

Brenda also brought a picture of the house our father was brought home to following his birth. We only had a street name and a picture to go on. This took some patience, as we drove down Ledgelawn Avenue in Bar Harbor, searching and studying every house on the street, trying to line up windows and roofs from the picture we held in our hands.  Finally, I spotted it. I told Brenda "This is the house!" It had been painted yellow, but the structure looked the same.  There were men in the yard doing some remodeling, but I knew it was the house!  As we got out of our rental car, a woman walked out of the front door.  We approached showed her the picture and told her our story. She said "This picture is from a long time ago, but yes, this is our house."  We were overwhelmed. She graciously invited us inside and told us the floors and corner shelves were original. We actually walked on the same floors our father did as a child. We were absolutely elated!  We ended up driving by this house several more times during our stay.  We couldn't help it.

Afterwards, we drove to the hospital, Mt. Desert Hospital, where our father was born. It was all so surreal. 

We decided to go to the library and search for anything relevant.  We ended up discovering where the graves of our great grandparents, Liston and Alma Mayo, aka "Gaga and Mimi" were laid to rest!  Brenda and I couldn't wait to make the trip to the cemetery in Somesville the next day!  We were on a roll!

It was a beautiful drive to the Mt. View Cemetery.  It sat on the side of the road.  If you weren't looking for it, you'd most likely miss it, but we were determined.  We jumped out of the car and immediately began walking the grounds looking for them.  We were so surprised and excited to see the graveyard filled with people who shared the last name of "Mayo" and "Higgins".  "Mayo" was our Dad's mother's maiden name and there were relatives everywhere!  We've since found out we're related to the Higgins' families as well!  Brenda and I were so excited, reading the headstones and learning of our newfound ancestors.  After about 15 minutes, Brenda yelled to me, "I found them!"  I ran across the cemetery, careful where my feet landed, and there it was.  The gravestone my father had purchased years before.  It read "Liston and Alma Mayo".  We stood there for a little while and told them hello.  We were so proud of ourselves.  We set a goal and made it.  It was surreal spending time there with ancestor's we'd barely known or never met.

When our Dad was alive, he made it very clear to all of us that when he died he wanted to be buried in Maine beside "Mimi" and Gaga".  He'd even written this in his own hand on a makeshift will.  Unfortunately, the woman he was married to at the time he passed away, refused to allow him to be buried there.  Instead, she placed his urn in a vault beside a man he despised.  To this day, this still infuriates me, even more so after visiting this cemetery where so many of my father's relatives have been laid to rest.  He wanted to be with his family, with the people he loved and cherished the most.    

The next day, just when we thought we had done it all, Brenda received a text from Nancy, Dad's 2nd wife. Nancy knew we were searching for anything and anyone associated with our Dad.  She told us about one of Dad's childhood friends. She said he used to live in Bar Harbor, but she didn't know if he was still there or even still alive. Nancy told us Dad visited this friend every year and they spoke regularly when Dad was alive.  They'd been best friends since 5th grade.  She gave us his name.  That's all we needed.  His name was Jimmy McInnis. 

I pulled the car over and immediately got online.  We checked yellowpages.com and found him. Unbeknownst to us, we'd already passed his house several times throughout the week and hadn't even known it!

I dialed his number and got his answering machine.  I explained who we were, what we were doing and asked if he was the same Jimmy McInnis who knew our father, Bob Robinson.  Then, I hung up.  We were only two blocks from his house, so we made the decision to drive to his house and knock on the door. We figured we had nothing to lose. 

As we pulled onto his street, our phone was ringing! It was Jim's wife, Donna. She said they knew exactly who we were, but Jim was overcome with emotion and couldn't talk. He finally got on the phone and asked me if we'd like to come over. We told him we were already seconds away!

As we drove up, Jim and Donna were waiting for us on the porch. They were both crying. We were too. Jim could barely walk and needed assistance.  He was overwhelmed.  He said we looked just like our Dad.

It was an emotional, beautiful moment for all of us. Brenda and I would spend the next 3 hours with Jim and Donna hearing about our father, the trouble they got into as kids and how much he loved and missed him.   We FaceTimed our brother Robbie, so he could meet Jim too.  He sobbed again as he spoke with our brother.  He couldn't believe how much Robbie looked, sounded and acted like our Dad.  It was precious.

I can't begin to describe how my sister and I felt as we left Jim and Donna's home.  We were walking on clouds! We'd just spent hours with a man who knew our Dad well, long before we'd even made an appearance on this earth.  We left with the promise to visit again soon.  Brenda and I are already planning our next trip back and hoping our brother will make it next time.

All the emotions we'd been experiencing all week and now, it was race day.  The morning started early at 7 am. We had until 3 pm to finish the Mt. Desert Relay Marathon or we wouldn't medal.  This wasn't an option for us. We crossed the finish line at 12:07!  It was one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life.  The hills were treacherous, but the scenery was spectacular.  Quitting wasn't part of the plan, so we both persevered.  When I found myself feeling I couldn't go on, I felt my Dad's presence with me, cheering me on.  I would talk to him and ask him for help.  I truly felt him with me.

This trip changed me.  It made me want to listen more, paying more attention to what and who's around me.  It caused me to reflect on how short life really is.  All the places we visited where Dad had once been are still there, yet he's gone.  Brenda and I talked of how we wished we'd made this trip with Dad before he'd died so he could have shared this part of his life with us.  He was such a storyteller and would have engaged us with the stories of his youth.  If only we could go back in time.

One thing's for sure.  Dad would have LOVED that we took a week out of our lives to visit the people and places he loved.  He would have felt so special to know how much we cared to connect with his past.  He would laugh at our "Nancy Drew Detective" work!  He would have been proud.  

Our last day in Maine still brought another sweet surprise.  We stopped at a quaint restaurant called "Coach House" for a delicious breakfast.  As we were paying our bill, the sweet lady behind the counter asked us where we were from. We told her our story about Dad, running the race in his honor and visiting the places he grew up. She asked, "Well, who was your Dad?"  We told her, "Robbie Robinson, he graduated from Brewer High School in 1958."  The smile on her face was priceless.  "Robbie Robinson?!?  I knew your Dad! He and my husband were good friends and one of his best friends, Everett, comes in here every Friday!"  The perfect ending to a perfect trip.

This week was special for so many reasons.  Not only was I able to share it with my best friend, my sister, Brenda, it was special because we were able to share it with our Dad.  

I leave you with this.  Jimmy, as Dad would call him, told us every time he asked Dad how he was doing, he would answer, "I'm Great, except when I'm Magnificent!"

How DID we get here?!

I try to stay away from this political mess as best I can. These are my thoughts, not yours, nor am I looking for you to agree with or argue with me either. My take on the top two candidates is this. Who they are and what they represent says much more about us and who we've become.

I see posts about "how did we get here", "is this the best we can do?", etc. etc. Well, each of us who've been able to vote for the past 30+ years need to take a long look in the mirror. And, please make no mistake, I'm including myself in this "we" category. We created this embarrassing, atrocious atmosphere of an election.

We're the ones who haven't held our appointed officials to a higher standard. We've been so lackadaisical about what's going on in the world around us, who's running what and how and so caught up in our own little bubbles we've forgotten, or worse, not even cared about what's been happening right in front of us or in our own backyards.

We've also helped create the biased media by not holding them accountable to the facts and truth of everyone involved, not just those they choose to promote. It is a privilege to live here, the greatest country on the planet, yet we've taken advantage and not done our part to protect it, our families or future generations.

We are the ones who should be ashamed of ourselves its come this far. Think about it. One of these candidates is a corrupt criminal, who has no regard for life or people, a person who lies constantly to save her own $#%@ and those she's in bed with, while the other is a man who uses insults and vulgarity, has a huge ego and is known more for being one of the biggest reality television stars in the world.

Neither one of these people, nor anyone else running for the highest office in the land, gets me excited or makes me feel like a proud American. My heart is grieved. What's happened is not God's fault. It's ours! God has given us chance after chance after chance to fight for and change the direction of this country, yet we've grown lazy and complacent.

My prayer is this election is waking a sleeping giant. The government will not save this country, nor will cowardly politicians, who care more about themselves than the constituents they swore to represent. We must begin to hold these men and women accountable. They work for us, not the other way around!

If we don't take our country back, our children and grandchildren will grow up in a place no longer recognizable or respected, with no sense of values or morality.

Yes, I will be voting in this election, but not with the same excitement and hope I've felt in the past. I will continue to pray for the best, whatever the outcome. The God I serve is who I place my trust, not in any one candidate.

God bless the U.S.A. God bless us all.

Perfect Life?!?! Lies, all lies.

This morning I met a friend for breakfast.  We had such an interesting, engaging conversation throughout our two hour visit.  One of my greatest pleasures in life is good, honest, open communication and conversation.

As we were talking, we came to an observation.  Too many people aren't real.  They're pretending to have the perfect life, marriage, relationships, career or constantly trying so hard to convince others they are themselves perfect people.   Some use social media as their platform or outlet to create a false sense or picture of who they really are or what they may be struggling through.  In no way am I advocating airing all your dirty laundry, but how can we expect to truly connect or ask others to relate to us if we're spending more time "pretending" than being authentic?

This afternoon, as I was receiving an incredibly, relaxing, deep tissue massage, this got me thinking.  I began to reflect on my own life and how others view it and I was reminded of something.  I thought writing a new blog would be an opportunity to set the record straight.

I've received many messages from well meaning people telling me it seems I live a charmed, perfect life.  Oh, how I beg to differ.  Just because these messages may be flattering and stroke my ego a little bit doesn't make them true.  Please don't hear what I'm not saying.  Yes, I'm blessed, even on a bad day. I'm breathing, I have my health, a career I love, a great family and good friends.  I'm a pretty upbeat, positive person, who believes in the cup half full.  Even when things are not going my way, I do my best to see the good, although, I don't always succeed.

In no way am I complaining about my life or looking for sympathy, but my life is not how some may perceive and there's always room for improvement.

I struggle just like the rest of you.  My issues may not be the same as yours, but they're still issues, nonetheless.

Here are just a few, (I said a few!), examples.

I have four adult daughters.  I still inquire into their lives probably more than I should, offer my opinion when I shouldn't and piss them off from time to time.  It's not unusual for one of them or even more at the same time, to be upset with me.  And, it's also common, when they're angry with me, I won't hear from them for days, a week or even longer.  Sure, we have very close relationships, filled with mutual respect and admiration and we love one another very much, but we still have our bad days.

I'm 52 years old and divorced.  It's been four years since my last serious relationship and it can get lonely.  Sure, I've gone on dates and met interesting men, some are still my friends.  A couple times, my interest was highly piqued, but timing was off, schedules complicated or things just didn't work out.  I've wonderered if I'll ever meet a man I'd be willing to give up my singleness for.  So far, nope. I'm not complaining about being single either.  I'd rather be single than miserable and I'm not miserable.  But, being single at my age does cause you to think about things like growing old alone or having to rely on my children to take care of me.  Neither of these scenarios are appealing to me.  But, I refuse to settle for a mediocre relationship, nor do I expect to find a perfect one either.

My career is stressful.  I'm in the non-profit field, constantly fundraising and pitching, in hopes others will catch the vision of how our organization is making a difference helping others, which hopefully inspires them to give.  I'm full aware the "buck stops here", so to speak, with me.  If I don't do my job, an entire organization suffers, including my staff, volunteers and most importantly, our clients.  At times, this has kept me up at night.

Let's face it, I'm not getting any younger.  I wouldn't give up the wisdom, confidence and security I have at my age for any amount of money, but things change as we age.  There's no escaping this fact. Sometimes, I forget what I was wearing yesterday!  No, I wouldn't trade the wisdom which comes with age, but the rest of it? You can keep it.  Getting older just sucks.

So, the next time you think I or anyone else you're stalking on social media has the perfect life, kids, or career, think again.

My Dad always said, "Baby Girl, there's always going to be someone whose got more money than you do, is better looking than you are and has an easier life than you've got, but, never forget, there's always someone who has it a little bit worse too."

All in all, I love my life.  I wouldn't trade it for anything.  But, perfect?  Not even close.