Life in the big city

Wow, this was a culture shock. Woodstock did not even have a red light and had only one 4-way stop sign. I did not know it was possible to pick up take-out and have it stay warm until you reached home. We had always worked at least 45-60 minutes from home.

How in the world would I ever adjust to living so close to strangers? And in a condo, of all places?

I did not work the first few months living in the Sunshine State. The only nice thing was, I didn’t know anyone, so I didn’t feel the need to wear makeup. OK, and most days, no bra, either.

My biggest adjustment was leaving my family. Especially my big sister Jeanne and my two nieces. Jeanne and I were always close (I mean, within a few yards) and always there for each other.  We still talked every day, if not two or three times a day. Our visits became so special because it was quality time together. After my Grandmother Reynolds passed away, I purchased her house from my aunt. (The house that now belongs to Cheryl Dodson). We fixed it up so Jeanne could move there after her divorce. She loved it there, and I know it was one of the best decisions we ever made.

Jeanne was at our house in 1997 but had to leave on a Monday morning for a routine colonoscopy on Tuesday. I was at a managers’ conference when I called to get her results and heard the awful “C” word. She had colon cancer and would have surgery the next day. I went home, packed, and as soon as Charlie got home, we headed to Alabama. For the next two years, we would battle her cancer together. On Feb. 21, 1998, Jeanne turned the big 5-0. She loved her birthday, always counted down the days, gave out cupcakes, and wore a hat or pin that said: “Happy Birthday to Me.” That is one area we differed; I just want to stay in bed and not have my “special day” acknowledged.  Anyway, a few months earlier she had  another colonoscopy and was told no sign of cancer. Now that is one birthday that needs to be extra special, right? I arranged  for a surprise party in the fellowship hall at our home church. It was kind of a roast since she had a great sense of humor. I remember waiting to call and invite Mary Grace after I arrived in Birmingham because I did not want word to get out. All I will say is that John got his talking skills from Mary Grace. Sure enough, she called Jeanne and asked how to get to the fellowship hall for the party. During my speech, I mentioned that Jeanne and I were so different that I thought she was adopted. Sure thing, who would speak out and let the crowd know that was not true?

Pictures from the 50th Birthday Party:

I am the Old Man with my Sister Jeanne

Reta & Jeanne - Bday party

 

Mary Grace and Jeanne                                                            MG & Jeanne

Mary Grace @ Bday party

 

We later learned that Jeanne’s cancer had metastasized to her liver. No need to say, I spent a lot of time in Woodstock over the next few months as Jeanne got sicker. She lost her battle on Jan. 8, 2000. She was just 50 years old.    Jeanne had this card designed to hand out at her service and Bulletin I had printed.

  • Jeanne's card
  • Page 1 Bulletin

Page 2 Bulletin

I returned to Florida thinking, OMG, I lost Mother at age 36, Daddy at age 54, and now Jeanne at 50. What is in store for me at age 47?    Well, so far so good.

Ok, back to Florida.

I worked for an automobile group for 22 years, until one day I had enough of the long hours and stress. I picked up my purse and said good-bye. The funny part about that is I had ridden to work with Charlie, so I made my grand exit then realized I had no ride home. I hung my head and headed to the service department. The service manager was kind enough to let me drive the customer van home, then Charlie returned it the next morning. Just short of a year later, Charlie decided the same thing.

Luckily for us, we had purchased our retirement home in 2003 in an old fishing town on the St. John’s River. By the way, nope, we do not fish. (Go figure.) We had permanently moved there in September 2006.

My mother-in-law passed away in 2005, and in 2007 it became apparent that my father-in-law should not live by himself, we seemed like the best option.

At that point, the three of us were living “happily ever after” — until Woodstock became S-Town.

Ok, Let’s keep talking,

Reta

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JANICE HARKINS
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JANICE HARKINS

I am so glad you are doing this, I am learning about you all over again. I hope all those people that a year ago was cutting you down, read every word.