Let’s see . . . I left the graduation podium, having just been presented the Class of ‘64’s French award by Monsieur Brenman – an honor I shared with my dear friend, Betsy Davidson – and headed to Boston for 4 years at Simmons College. My identity as a card carrying member of the Committee for a SANE Nuclear Policy beatnik, hanging out in Greenwich Village, modified more than a bit as I delved into college studies. Having every intention of going to graduate school to earn an MSW, I majored in Sociology but, truthfully, I had as many art history courses as I did social science classes.
I settled into a somewhat traditional existence for many years following college graduation in June, 1968 . . . married, had children, moved to multiple states as my former husband wove through his medical training, the military and subsequent position as a diagnostic radiologist in Toledo, Ohio. Each move represented a different job for me – nothing lasting more than a handful of years. My “career” has primarily revolved around office administration in various settings: psychiatric research, labor/management cooperation, organized labor unions, architectural firms. (Now you know why I put the word “career” in quotes.)
In February, 1981, I traveled to Colorado with my daughter, Rebecca, then age 6, and her father, Peter, then age 39. That was to be a defining moment in my life. In fact, it was to become the beginning of my life as I have lived it for the past several years. . . and the best years to date. I knew from that first moment in Colorado that someday I would have to live there.
But . . . back to Ohio. During the 18 years “living” in Toledo (you do know why I put “living” in quotes), I raised Rebecca, marveling in her mental & physical growth, exposing her to whatever culture I could in Toledo and traveling with her as much as time allowed, doing the’70’s & 80’s aerobic thing and returning to graduate school in pursuit of an MBA. The late 80’s were not good years. Divorce, loss of both parents, back surgery, stress overload – but, as usual, the survivor in me ruled.
The goal to move to Colorado was an ever present theme and, in 1992, when Rebecca headed east to Brandeis University, I headed west to the Roaring Fork Valley. I have been in the Aspen area ever since and Rebecca has remained in the Boston area. I am not going anywhere – she is soon to move to Tuscaloosa, Alabama with her significant other. Rob is embarking on his PhD in English Literature at the University there while Rebecca will discover life as a southerner. I often bemoaned the fact that my daughter had to grow up in the Midwest but perhaps that has made her somewhat adventuresome. My one concern is that my first grandchild might be born in the Deep South. It’s a good thing that I have not really thought seriously about being a grandparent. I know my dearest of friends, Eleana Sussman, has two grandchildren and loves it – she and I have stayed in touch these 40 years - but, Stuart Nover . . . do you really have 6 grandchildren?
In large part, the reason I am sitting outside the Aspen Music Festival Tent trying to fit the past 40 years on one page, is because of my significant other, my husband, Philip. It’s not only that he is house manager of the Music Tent on Friday & Sunday mornings, it’s that he has re-connected me to music, dancing, outdoor involvements (hiking, skiing) and life is very good. These are actually the best of times for me . . . I am happy, healthy, and feeling ageless in Colorado. One thing makes me sad . . . I do not know where Betsy Davidson is.
[For more details, my e-mail address is: lisamaxz@aol.com]
