My Diamond Birthday!

I'm Feeling 62!

 I feel like I should apologize for posting all about myself every time, but hey, it's my blog. I sort of use this as a journal so that maybe someday my posterity will read it and get a glimpse into my 2024 life. Or maybe they won't care...so maybe this is just for me anyway. Either way, I'm writing.

This was me a few weeks ago. 

   Anyway, January 13th was my 62nd birthday AND I was born in 1962, so that means it's my Diamond Birthday! Evidently, your Diamond Birthday is sort of like your Golden Birthday, except that your Golden Birthday is when you turn the age that is the same as the day you were born. So my Golden Birthday was back in 1975 when I turned 13. Since I didn't even know what a Golden Birthday was (no one did back then), I am happy to be celebrating my Diamond Birthday, which is when you turn the age that is the year you were born. I'm not ashamed to admit that I turned 62 on January 13th, and I was born in 1962. Woot!

   Just so I don't forget (I'm old so who knows how long I'll remember things), here's how the birthday celebrations unfolded: 

Friday, January 12th: For dinner, delectable Chinese food with Hector, Lucas, and Jordan. I just love egg foo young, and Little Dragon Chinese Cantonese Restaurant cooked up some yummy stuff. Hector picked it up and we enjoyed eating together at home. I opened a few gifts and loved just being with my family.

yum!

Saturday, January 13th: The morning started with more of my favorites.😊 

sweet pan dulce for breakfast, beautiful flowers, and then a day of complete leisure. We needed the relaxation so that we could get ready for our big night. I took a great nap.

Saturday night, Hector and I drove down to Pala Casino to meet my besties, Diana, Tina, and Tina's husband, James, for dinner and dancing. The food was good, but the company was even better. After dinner we spent the rest of the night doing one of my favorite activities, dancing! My friend Roseann's band, Pulp Vixen, performed from 4:00-8:30. We had a great time listening to them and dancing to our favorite tunes. They cover lots of fun songs, and Roseann is an amazing guitarist. I even got a birthday shoutout!

 

Myself, Tina, Diana, besties since 1967

From 9:00 to 1:15, we continued our dancing adventures with the next band, The Dudes of San Diego. I had never heard of them before, but now they're near the top of my list! They played lots of dance music, which made my heart (and hips) very happy.  We spent the night at the Pala Hotel since it was so late, and enjoyed just getting away for a night.

The Dudes band also gave me a another birthday gift--calling out my birthday and cajoling me to "get low" while they played Brickhouse. It sounds silly, but I'll admit, it was fun. I mean, who doesn't enjoy being the Dancing Queen for one night?

 

 

Sunday, January 14th: Hector and I headed home but planned to find a church on the way home and just attend Sacrament meeting and then head home. We stopped in Temecula, where one of our favorite couples, Tom and Sherry Stanfill, live. We joked on the way, "Wouldn't it be funny if we found Tom and Sherry's ward?" And then...another birthday gift! The first person we saw when we walked in was Tom. Needless to say, we stayed longer than just sacrament meeting and ended up enjoying the afternoon at the Stanfill home, catching up and enjoying meaningful conversation with our dear friends. By the end of the day, I felt like I had been blessed with the perfect birthday weekend.

Tom, Sherry, me, Hector

But just to make the weekend even more perfect, Monday was Martin Luther King Jr. observance day, so I didn't have to go to work. I slept in, enjoyed the peace of being home, and thought a lot about my life. I have lived on this earth for 62 years, and I have been blessed beyond what I deserve. Maybe it's because I turned 62, or maybe it's mortality salience, but I feel an urgency to fulfill goals I have for myself, enjoy the richness of being alive, and do and be better. In every possible way.

   So that was my Diamond birthday. To be honest, it was more fun than I thought it would be, thanks to Hector, and it lasted waaaay longer than it should have. I did receive some nice gifts (a beautiful watch, cute clothes, fabulous gift cards), but what I really cherish is how I spent the time. I did things I love doing--dressing up, dancing, laughing, talking with family, relaxing. I was surrounded by some of my most favorite people. I ate fabulous foods. I reflected on my life. And hopefully, it's just the beginning of what's going to be a Diamond Year.

Mom

     I'll admit something really terrible about myself: I used to love Covd-19. I mean, I didn't love the fact that people were getting sick and dying. That's horrible, and you would have to be a monster to love that.  But I loved being able to stay home all day while I worked. I loved that I could wear sweats and no makeup all day and no one cared. I loved falling into the infinite dark hole of NetFlix and discovering shows I would have never even imagined existed. (You know...Tiger King, Indian Matchmaker, murder, baking, documentaries about everything under the sun, and the like). I loved spending all day with Hector, each at our end of the couch, balancing our laptops while still earning a living. My daily exercise regimen consisted of happily slogging through the Amazon, and I don't mean the river. I could go on and on about all of the introvertical pleasures the worldwide pandemic afforded me, but let's just say that I was content with the new lifestyle we all found ourselves in. It was all about ME.

   But then, it became real. My covid 15 became a covid 50. There's a permanent dent in the couch where my lazy tush planted itself daily for the past 11 months. I couldn't go out with friends, or go to church, or travel to see my favorite little people. But worst of all, people I cared about caught the dreaded virus, and it became all too real.

   In early December, my 84-year-old mother caught it. I don't know how, since she lived in the bubble of an assisted living home and could only have limited visitors, outside, with masks on, but she did. She was hospitalized for a few weeks, and then she got better. She went back home because she no longer had the virus. She got better, but she was worse, not better. She was really tired. Her memory was no longer in tact, and she didn't always make sense when we talked on the phone. In fact, our phone calls were now cut short because she didn't feel like talking anymore, a complete reversal of ALL of our former conversations. I couldn't visit her, but I could tell, she looked and acted as though she had aged another 10 years in the few months since I had seen her last. I was worried, but thought to myself, "She's okay. She beat the virus."

   Anyway, she died a little before midnight last Friday night. I won't go on and on about the hospital stay, the collapsed lung, low oxygen levels, hypoxia, heart arrhythmia, etc., but I will say this: she died all alone. All by herself, in the hospital, with an indifferent nurse in the next room. 

   Of course, I am really sad that she died. But I'm more sad about how it happened. My deepest sadness comes from thinking that she was all alone and that she might have felt that no one cared. Did she know that we didn't go see her because we weren't allowed to? I'm praying that she did. I believe she was close enough to God to know that He cared and that her family cared, even though we hadn't gone to see her. 

   My sister and I didn't have the luxury of sitting at her bedside, telling her goodbye and that we loved her as she slipped from this life into the next. That's what Covid does. It robs us of togetherness--whether we're together engaged in living or dying. 

   So although I got to spend a lot of time basking in the idleness of a me-centered Covid, I lost the opportunity to be where it mattered most when it mattered most. I'm not sure if/when I'll get over this. I suppose in time, my heart will heal and I'll reflect upon this experience with some sort of gratitude, but for now, it just hurts.

My mom, circa 1952.

                                      

Moving on....

Well, it's time. Farewell, wild blue yonder. Adios, friendly skies. Time to hang up my wings and keep my feet on the ground. It was a fun ride, an adventure that I hadn't even planned on taking, and now it's finished. Time to move on, only this time without lift-off.

Here's a little pic I took from inside my office one day. I will miss this!

Working as a Flight Attendant for SkyWest Airlines has been a lot of fun. In fact, a lot of it was absolutely enjoyable. It was a delight to meet people of all ages and races; to talk with them and understand the perspectives and ideals of people very different than myself. I LOVED making new friends--people I would never have met, if I hadn't had this job. (And whom I really needed to meet in my lifetime).  I've been blessed to traverse the avenues of large, powerful cities one day and then explore the quiet, obscure paths of small towns the next. I've admired the beauty of famous skyscrapers, discovered the treasures of small town museums, and stood into the wind on salty beaches. It's been a privilege to view the earth from an aerial view, through clouds and sunshine, day and night, day after day. And that never gets old.

One evening in Burbank.

Chicago....one of my favorite cities!

Portland is a beautiful place.

There are a lot of perks to this job. I mean, going through security without waiting in line, carrying any size liquid I want onto an airplane, and flying all over the world for free makes it a pretty good gig. Although I didn't really fly all over the world (London and Santiago were my two big trips), just knowing that I could do it made it a great career.

My trip to London, thanks to SkyWest and Camille.

Santiago and Marcus, December2015

Santiago, Chile with 2 of my men.

I discovered and learned a lot while working as a Flight Attendant.  Most of all, I discovered a lot about myself. I realized that I enjoy being alone in a hotel room, with time for myself. I had personal time to read, sleep, or exercise (ok, maybe not so much). It sounds lonely, but it wasn't. With a lot of time for self-reflection, I recognized my innate tendency to nurture. I realized that I like caring for others and making their trip, flight, journey, commute (or whatever else you want to call it) a bit more enjoyable. Even though it sounds cheesy, a smile and a kind word can make a big difference, and I learned that I like being the one to make that difference for someone else. I also learned to be flexible, to adjust to delays and wait without complaining (ok, maybe just a little bit), and to be patient with circumstances as well as with people. I learned that people can be extremely kind to each other, even when cramped in a small, uncomfortable cabin. I found that it may be those who look the least approachable who can be the most receptive. And I discovered that YouTube can teach you how to do anything. Hence, I learned how to crochet.

Thank you, YouTube!

All of which leads to this: I learned that I really like being home. Going to work was fun, but coming home is satisfying. I missed my husband, Hector, more than I had imagined I would. Although we talked everyday whenever possible, I missed just being with him.  And although flying gave me the opportunity to care for others, I missed being able to help and care for my family, church, and community on a regular basis. I missed being accessible to my family whenever they wanted to talk. And I missed the daily routine of life on land. In the end, I have recognized that being gone for days at a time, no matter how fun, just isn't what I want to do.

So this is the end of my flying career. I have no regrets, and I am soooo glad I have done this. As I said earlier, I have met some incredible people, I've had some amazing experiences, and I've fallen in love with some fascinating places.  But as it turns out, this job just isn't for me. So farewell flying! Thank you, SkyWest, for a wonderful opportunity. It was a blast!

It's good to be home.

Friday, July 13th, 2012

Remember July? Well, there was another Friday the 13th in July 2012. I have determined to document all of my Friday-the-13ths since they are always such extraordinary and lucky days. So here was the one last month:

It might not have been so fun (or lucky!) for my sixteen-year-old son, Lucas, who got his wisdom teeth out that day. 

Here's Lucas on his 16th birthday (last May) with his grandma and me. Isn't he cute?

Lucas Isaac Gamboa

6''2", 185 lbs, Taurus, auburn hair, brown eyes, favorite color: blue, favorite food: In n Out double-double, favorite past time:  playing mindless video games.

I have found (from observing all six of my children plus my own experience) that when a person is still under the influence of  drugs after having had their wisdom teeth removed, they are either very happy and silly, or else the complete opposite--angry and belligerent. Lucas was the latter. This is really funny because he is generally very relaxed, easy-going, and not easily agitated.

However, the drugs made him sort of grumpy. Here's a pic of him right after the surgery:

And here's a little clip of him while I try to coax him to wake up and open his eyes. I was instructed to do this by the nurse...just so you know I wasn't trying to be mean (despite what Lucas may think).

I suppose this isn't that exciting. But if you know or are related to Lucas, it's somewhat entertaining.

Anyway, we stopped at Juice It Up and got his free smoothie while he grumbled at me the whole time. He got really upset and slammed his hand on the dashboard of the car when he realized that it was 9:00. (I don't know why--it wasn't like he had something else to do.)  He complained that the nurses were lying and didn't know what they were talking about when I told him what we had been instructed to do. ("How do they know? They're lying!") And when we got to the smoothie place, he stumbled and almost fell to the ground while trying to walk, so I made him wait in the car. (He is pretty big, and I there was no way I could catch him if he went all the way down.) That really ticked him off, as he mentions in the next video. He was just belligerent, which was also funny because he asked me what belligerent means and got angry when I didn't define it for him right away. ("I'll look it up if you don't tell me!" he slurred as his drugged fingers fumbled with his cell phone.)

So here he is after the drugs had worn down a bit, we sat at the kitchen table, he drank his smoothie, and began telling me what he remembered about the oral surgery:

I cut off the video because I was afraid he was going to choke on his pills.

Anyway, this story has a happy ending because he slept all day, swelled up a little (ok, a LOT), ate lots of scrambled eggs, pudding, and ice cream, and healed up just fine. Here's a pic of the puffy cheeks:

It's not really that puffy, but he sure did not want me to take a picture. And I doubt he wanted it posted on my blog either, so this may be a temporary post!

Anyway, it was a memorable Friday the 13th, although not so much for Lucas because he doesn't remember much of it at all. But thanks to pics, video, and of course, this blog, it is now documented forever. I love you, Luc!!

Another Friday the 13th!

I have not posted in a long time because I had this little distraction called Getting My Bachelor's Degree, but now I'm back (translated: no homework until next semester)!! But I did have a super duper day in April; in case you don't remember, there was a Friday the 13th in April, and you know what that means...

Yes!! A Friday the 13th! One of my Lucky Days!

So now I will blog about my wonderful day on Friday, April the 13th. From now on I will be sure to document all my Friday the 13ths or maybe only post a blog on Friday the 13ths....unless something really cool happens, or I just feel like posting a cute pic of my adorable grandchildren.... (insert cute pic here)

Anyway,

My day went something like this:

1. No school today but I had to be in court at 8am. Not fun. I'm not even going to post a pic or say more about that. I will say that I do not like courtrooms.

2. It started to rain. Plus it was a 6-mile run day. Since Hector, Marcus, and I are training for our annual half marathon in June, we had a schedule to keep. And Friday the 13th was the Six Mile Day. Hector had to work, so Marcus and I went out and did it. It didn't occur to me that I would be documenting this day, so I didn't take any pics. But we ran on one of my favorite trails, Euclid Avenue in Upland, which normally looks something like this:



Except minus the grass. It is such a beautiful run, even without grass and even in the rain.
Now picture me running in the rain....looking something like this:

Ok, so I probably looked more like this:

 

Anyway, Marcus and I ran our little hearts out and our little legs off. I know 6 miles is nothing to some of my Amazing Ultra Marathon Runner Friends, but it was not super easy. And Marcus is quite fast, but he stayed with me for most of the run, so I appreciate his pity.



3. After the refreshing run, I took a shower and got ready for the part of the day that made it, you know,

Friday the 13th-ish! The Fun! The Highlight of the day! Un jour heureux! Pura alegría! Замечательно!

I drove to Los Angeles to meet my dear friend since kindergarten, Diana. The rain had subsided by then, so the drive wasn't bad. And for the first time, I went to the office where she works. It is in downtown L.A., and her company must make a gazillion dollars a year, because it was beautiful.

Anyway, I was Diana's guest to..........

The Laker Game!!

We had dinner at LA Live (yummy!) and then we took our seats at the Laker game.
If you remember, Kobe did not play due to a bruised shin (whatever!), but it was still a great game.
  

Here we are, each of us, courtside, before the game:

Don't we look happy? It was a big night for a couple of old ladies!!

Here's some pics I took of Kobe and the bunch.

Seriously, Kobe, it would have been nice if you had played.  But you still looked nice in your suit.

And now for a few shots of my favorite Laker...El Guapo, Mi Novio, El Hombre:

 Look at the concentration as he focuses on the next rebound....

 






He had a super awesome game.  I don't know what his stats were, but I'm sure they were good. Probably like a Triple Double or something.

This is definitely my favorite shot, if you know what I mean. (Hector said I could say that so it's ok.)

Wait a minute! This post started out as a documentation of my super-terrific Friday the 13th, and it ended up being some sort of Cougar-type homage to Pau Gasol. Not sure how that happened. Sorry.

But the moral of the story is, it was a great day!! All my Friday the 13ths are!! 
I am sooo looking forward to July......





 P.S. 
Yesterday I graduated from the University of La Verne with a Bachelor of Arts Degree in Social Science, Magna Cum Laude. It was a bigger deal than I thought it would be.
If you do Instagram, I posted a pic of what it looked like to graduate, from my perspective. 

Here's a pic with my mom, after the ceremony:

And here are the men in my life that I love, love, love:

And my two best girlfriends, who are extremely smart:

So that's it! Now I am a college grad. Thank you, awesome family, dear friends, inspiring co-workers, and dedicated professors, for being there every step of the way. It took much longer than it should have, but it's done! As Camille put it, "lots of people go to college for 20 years.  They're called doctors." ha ha.