WordSisters

Author: Elizabeth di Grazia

  • I Like to Laugh

    Valentine’s Day dance

    I like to laugh. Uproariously. I like to banter. When words or actions touch my heart, I like to cry. I savor conversations that lead me to your spirit and you to mine. I want to feel safe.

    Jody and I found a welcoming community where we belong. Our spirits, the essence of who we are, no longer need to be hidden. Our sense of being different has melted away. We fit.

    On our arrival, several Minnesotans stopped by our RV lot, gave us a dern-tootin’, you betcha Minnesooota hello. “Dun-chya-no, dere’s a dance dis evening at the clubhouse. Yah. Yah. You wanna come wid?”

    Shortly after we met a lady walking her dog. After chatting, we realized we had found ourselves a dog sitter.

    Winter games, one week of competitive fun play, started the day after our arrival. Variations of ping pong, billiards, shuffleboard, bocce ball, corn hole, mind games and kids’ games kept us busy from morning to night. Over 120 community members participated. All organized by volunteers.

    The Resort encompasses fifty acres and features 278 homes and RV lots. Many overlook freshwater lakes, conservation areas and preserves.

    What’s not to like?

    The Resort is a predominately lesbian, gated community.

    I wondered what our son and daughter would think of us owning an RV lot here. Would they feel welcomed? Would friends, relatives, nieces and nephews, want to visit? How would I feel living 24/7 in a community of women? Was I essentially gating myself from the outside ‘real’ world? Was I labeling myself a lesbian? (I hate labels).

    These questions bothered me. I listened to my body. Paid attention to how I felt when joining activities, walking the dogs, and visiting residents. Jody and I discussed on many occasions the path that brought us here.

    What I like most about The Resort is the feeling of acceptance regardless of age, body size, clothes style, or how you look. Friendliness awaits as soon as you step out of your house or RV. Waving Hi, saying hello, is natural and expected. The Resort is safe. I can be myself. I can have meaningful conversations.

    My unease finally came to rest when I determined that Jody and I did well for ourselves. The Resort is a wonderful resting place for our spirits. We enjoy the camaraderie and budding friendships. What matters most is that it is a place for us.  It’s a home where we are comfortable and laugh often.

  • Are You My Mother?

    A visit to the Everglades. Alligator mother.

    “Where is my mother?” the baby bird asked.

    I will go and look for her,” he said.

    So away he went.

    He did not know what his mother looked like.

    Where he would find her.

    This popular children’s story speaks of the importance of belonging, finding your tribe, your people. The kitten, hen, dog, cow, were not his mother so the little bird went on. The boat, plane, and snorting steam shovel were not his mother.

    Jody and I started our RV adventure on September 30, 2024. Along the way, we asked ourselves the question, “Are you, my mother?”

    Our search for belonging, for community.

    Perhaps it’s because 2024/2025 are political years. Perhaps it’s because we are a married couple. Perhaps it’s the insular nature of an RV park.

    The answer continually echoed: we don’t belong here.

    We didn’t find one couple or one person in the 210-site park we could share ourselves with.

    Instead, we escaped the park in our RV to take in long breaths at the ocean. In November, I flew to Texas to buy a car, and drove it back to Florida to increase our ability to leave the RV park.

    Once our search started, we decided that even though the park was beautiful and the folks friendly that it was more important to have a feeling of acceptance and inclusion.

    Inching ever closer, Jody and I have given notice at our RV park and are moving to a community in Fort Myers on Saturday.

    It’s important to not settle. Not try to fit in. To trust ourselves. Be proud of who we are.

     

  • RVing Mishaps Along the Way

    “You don’t have to tell people about this,” Jody said. I agreed.

    No one needed to know that we drove into a car wash knocking our air conditioner off its frame. Our 29 ft. Class A motorhome didn’t fit. This was something Jody and I were never going to do—drive into a car wash with our RV. Immediately, we knew we made a mistake when we heard a loud “Clunk”. After we both screamed, I slowly backed out of the car wash. Jody inspected the ceiling of our RV and could see daylight. This was not going to be an easy fix.

    Belonging to well over 20 RV websites: RV Lifestyle, RV Maintenance – Repair & Remodeling Group, RVing with Dogs, RV Traveling with Cats, Winnebago Motorhome Repair, 50 and Over RV’ers, 60 and Over RV’ers, Full Time RV Living, RV Group for Beginners, RV Owners Helping RV Owners and many more, we were knowledgeable and aware of the hazards. We discussed horror stories.

    For gosh sakes, we had even gone to a weeklong RV class.

    There was a sign at the car wash that said RV WASH. We didn’t look closely enough to see that the arrow was pointing to the OUTSIDE of the bay.

    There have been other mishaps.

    I trust my mirrors. They don’t lie. I don’t need to see directly behind our RV. I use my side mirrors effectively. Backing all 29 ft. into my cousin’s driveway with him guiding me, I forgot that we had our E-bikes on the hitch. I dented the right corner of his car with the E-bikes. Ooops.

    Jody and I have learned that she should be on the phone directing me with her shrieks and yells while I am driving out of or into parking spots. My cousin’s “STOP” is so much more mellow than Jody’s. I know her nuances, her breathing, her certain shrillness.

    Jody’s role is to be the fixer. She handled getting the air conditioner repaired. When an exterior storage compartment was damaged due to an object flying off a semi on the freeway, she ordered the part from Winnebago and will oversee the replacement. She diagnosed a leak in our bathroom shower and ran after an RV serviceman in a KOA to get it repaired. Our backup camera is now working because of her efforts.

    My role is to clean the grey and black waste tanks weekly.

    It’s been three months since we’ve left Minnesota in our RV. We’ve learned that we can live together in a tight space. And, if something breaks or gets damaged, we will fix it same as if you fall over in a chair, you don’t stay down. You get up, find the humor, and carry on.