1988: I turn 31

It’s only when I begin to write today’s post that I remember that in 1987 we moved into a bigger house. So I add that to yesterdays’ post.

1988: The shoulder pad trend continues. Kathleen turns seven. It snows in Columbus. Cal goes on his annual golf trip with his law school buddies. In May I begin five months of planning for a trip to Paris. I buy a stack of new guide books and read them like novels. In July we all spend a week at the beach. Whitney Houston’s One Moment in Time is NBC’s theme song for the Summer Olympics. I’m still planning. I’ve never seen Chagall’s ceiling in the old Paris Opera House, so I read Rigoletto and buy a ticket. I want to see Monet’s garden. I want to speak only French. I book a guide for the museums. There are wills and trusts to write, carpools to drive, school plays to watch, and a party to give for Bobby’s first birthday. But in October, right after our family photo for the church directory, I board a plane for a week in France.

29 days to 60


Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
Mary Oliver

4 thoughts on “1988: I turn 31

    • It is! I like to think I will reread these years in the future, in which case I’ll want to remember that we moved in 1987–so that’s why I’m going back and adding things I remember. But I’m also fascinated by process–so that’s why I’m noting a memory that comes up later than the others.

      Liked by 2 people

  1. You got me! For some reason I read your trip-planning as applying to the whole family. When I read that last line and realized the trip was just for you, I felt like you’d just handed me a big slice of cake–what a treat! I’m so glad to know you did that for yourself. And once again I’m so jealous, I just can’t help myself–I have never seen any of those things! My one trip to France was a bizarre, unexpected, totally unaffordable thing that somehow landed in my schoolgirl lap when our new French teacher used connections to swing an incredibly inexpensive (and one-time only, as it turned out) 9-day trip for a handful of students. My parents, who never had two dimes to rub together, saw the opportunity for what it was, and I will forever be grateful (and surprised) that they acted. I saw the Seine and Mont St. Michel and Mont Martre and of course Versailles and Notre Dame and the Arc de Triomphe (forgive spelling errors, too lazy to look things up) and something like 10 little chateaux I remember zero about. Oh, and Normandy beach–ouch. There was a strike at the Louvres, so that was a huge disappointment, but overall the trip was magical. But I was 15 and remember so little. Maybe one day I will go again and see these other, more interesting items you’re naming. Of course what I most want to do is sit outside a cafe and drink cafe au lait and eat warm croissants, then read a very thick book while overlooking a Parisian street, then shop for a simple dinner of fruit and cheese, and buy little pastries and caramels for dessert. Is that too much to ask??

    Liked by 1 person

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