January 30

It was thirty-eight years ago today. It does not seem that long ago. My life could have been so small, but it feels slightly larger than small.

I got up early this morning. There’s a package in Castries for me and Elaine needs some help with a computer program. I make a small carafe of Starbucks, carefully measuring no more than I need. The prized black grounds with the rich aroma are sent to me by friends and family. I love them for that. I look around the house and gather books that I’ve collected from the Peace Corps Library. Some I’ve read while others will never be read and now it’s time to return them. I pack them up in my red backpack, put my identification and money into the pouch, and grab my ITouch so I have music to listen to during the one hour trip.

It was a stormy night last night. The rain pounded the aluminum roof and when it subsided the howling winds from the Atlantic Ocean created a haunting groan moving throughout the village. It kept me up the better part of the night. This morning I opened my doors allowing the wind to blow through the house. Sprinkles of rain turned into two quick storms. I wait for a break before heading out for the day.

I intend to stop at the Credit Union before I get to the bus stop. I need to deposit my rent money into Elizabeth’s account, but a bus comes down the street and the driver is looking for passengers. He shouts, “Castries?” I confess, I got on the bus. The rent will be paid when I return today.

There are only a few people on board, but the driver heads for the city; something seldom done. He will usually wait until there are enough passengers to make the trip worthwhile. I settle in, open my bag and retrieve my ITouch. I watch a couple of YouTube Videos, but then turn to music.

Today would have been our thirty-eighth wedding anniversary. I have so many wonderful memories of John and today he will be on my mind. As I listen my ITouch it creates a musical time-machine. Each song has another memory taking me to another place that makes me smile. How did I get here? I never would have guessed this would be my life.

As the bus travels down the winding two lane road headed for the capitol, I look out the window at the banana fields that dot the highway. Blue bags hang from the trees. The bags are used to protect bananas from pests. I see a man sitting at a table by the roadside. There are dozens of bananas on the table. This is his business – selling a few banana’s each day. They cost a quarter each.

Marvin Gaye sings What’s Going On bringing me to the early 1970s and I think about our days on Border Avenue, the endless parties with so many friends, BBQs and our backyard communal garden. We had more tomatoes than three families could possibly eat.

I first heard the Clancy Brothers when I met John. He loved his Irishness. How fitting it is that The Jug of Punch should play on this day. As I think about family gatherings and corned beef and cabbage, I notice a partial truck by the road that is overcome with wild ferns and other plants. It looks much like a planter. The truck has been there so long it blends into the landscape. There is the occasional pedestrian walking on the highway carrying a cutlass.

Creedance Clearwater Revival’s Lookin’ Out My Back Door begins and I am immediately filled with joy. It’s one of the few songs I would hear John singing to. Whenever this song played, whatever was happening, I paused because it brought out the best side of him.

Out my window a woman is selling fruits and vegetables. There is a colorful array of edible fresh picked foods; watermelons, oranges, tangerines, tomatoes, sweet potatoes and breadfruits. A man is harvesting bananas in a nearby shed. There are streams of brown muddy water from the tropical rain.

Pink Floyd plays Eclipse and it takes me to our early days on Clarion Drive. Our friends moved across the street because no one wanted to leave Border Avenue behind.

I notice shacks with tin roofs and homes with freshly painted porches. There are ferns and coconut trees and we are passing the best part of the road now; a rain forest filled with lush greenery. I look over at other passengers and watch them enjoying the beauty of nature. And then James Taylor starts singing I’ll be There, and I smile.

There are packs of passive dogs crossing the highway with skill. Survival of the fittest is evident in these packs. They are skilled at dodging cars and have learned to have patience with people who generously toss leftover bones their way. I am reminded of our two German Shepards, Charlie and Alice.

I have a strange feeling. I’m here in Saint Lucia, but I’m holding John’s hand at his childhood house on LaSalle Street in Los Angeles. I’m realistic about this. I know there were some terrible times, but it’s nice to be in a place where I can finally bring the good memories forward. What a great life.

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