Super Bob-Nova

My husband and I took full advantage of still being on east coast time, rising early on the day of my Grandpa’s 90th birthday party. With the rest of the house still asleep, we slipped down to the Pacific Garden Mall for some of the best coffee on this coast.

My husband promptly texted his best friend to gloat about the purchase.

Returning to the Eastside we hit up MY favorite spot to get authentic Mexican pan dulce from El Rosal. I believe there is no better pairing with the amazing coffee we brewed up then some super fresh conchas and jalapeño and cheese stuffed tortas.

We explored one of the many pocket gardens that fill the communal spaces all around town. Somehow, a discarded bottle of chambord in the center birdbath against the backdrop of a beautiful rose trellis was the prefect incarnation of Santa Cruz for me.

This is the city of my birth, just a mile or so from this very spot. This place raised me, and educated me in the unvarnished ways of the world, it is beauty devoid of pretense. I am grateful for each lesson this salt soaked, fog shrouded town has shown me.

With the whole family awake and fueled by our purchased comestibles we still had time for a walk down to the beach, now much less crowded in the cool morning air.

The kids and their dad explored the slough near the rental.

Our daughter did her best most of the trip to look like one half of the twins from The Shinning when asked to pose for a photo. We all have to have our hobbies, I guess.

As I prepared for the onslaught of family love we were about to receive. I had a moment to reflect about my grandfather, the reason we embarked on this cross country odessy to begin with. Some of my earliest memories are of him, his barn, the scent of horses and eating molasses coated oats out of a steal feed container. By the time I knew him, he was a successful business owner with a cherry red corvette that always smelled like trident cinnamon gum. Their ranch style house was adorned with ribbons from so many horse shows that the den had a 6 foot section of wall covered from floor to ceiling. I often marveled at the silver cups in their velvet cases wishing I could use them for juice.

He is a man who can communicate with horses, people and plants alike, intuiting their needs and responding to them with ease. His laugh is the iconic cowboy “he he he” of old west movies, the only difference between him and a C.M. Russell painting was his hat. A true pressman, he always wore a news boy hat, now popularize by Peaky Blinders.

Before he was my grandpa, he was a Nebraska farm boy. I had always thought it was a ‘chicken farm’ but apparently the 2,500 birds his mother raised every year were actually just a side hustle for the corn and wheat grown on those 160 acres. When he was a pre-teen they had a fire that burned the house down. The community of local farmers came together and hosted his family till his father could make a makeshift house out of the foundation of the old one. They tried to make it work for another year, but after a hail storm decimated their final wheat crop they moved to southern Illinois and open a grocery store.

Bob ended up in Ca for his senior year in high school where he met my Grandma. After graduation he joined the Marines, by the time he was 20 he and Rosalie married. They had four girls, mom mother the oldest of the lot. Those four begat six grandchildren. He was elated with each new member of the family, at 90 he has 2 great-granddaughters and another one on the way!

Our large family is not a quiet one (I know, shocker) and as we walked through the door of my aunt’s house the high ceilings rung with greetings and laughter as I hugged each member of the family in turn.

It felt so good to be in that room, well worth the efforts of the day before that brought us over 3000 miles. My cousin’s daughter was instantly the target of our daughter’s affections, holding hands and leading each other around the yard, trying to catch blue belly lizards.

We all took pictures with the guest of honor and caught up with everyone we could with the time we were given.

My Aunt’s dog Stevie is always a hit with my kids, and she was toted around and cuddled everywhere.

After a couple hours of enjoying my distracted daughter, I took pity on them in their fruitless lizard hunt and employing my father’s time honored tradition of making a grass lizard catcher, I procured a couple blue bellies (technically a western fence swift) for them to torment play with.

Later there was a delicious BBQ lunch and amazing cake!

Then it was time for presents, but what do you get a 90 year old man of means who has already owned most of the things of interest to him? Our family’s gift was a star named after him which I dubbed “Super Bob Nova” in the constellation of Gemini. He was tickled by the idea and so we called it a success.

My children made my dad proud by initiating obligatory family bunny ears, my uncle gladly followed suit. Look how happy mischief makes them.

It’s hard to articulate how good it was to see everyone and celebrate such an epic milestone with my last remaining grandparent, hauling our whole family across the country and back again in just four days is a pretty good indicator of how much this man and these people mean to me.

From my Aunt’s house we ventured further into the mountains to drop mom off at home. She is unbound by school or work obligations and can stay for a much longer (more fitting) period of time for the distance traveled. It was good to see the old home, nice to have it being so well taken care of.

We were able to touch redwoods and walk the grounds of my childhood, it was the perfect end to the day.

We got back to Santa Cruz with enough time to heat up the taqueria food we had ordered in bulk for lunch, in anticipation of us not getting back to the rental during business hours. All of us thoroughly exhausted we shuffled off to bed. Making ready for Sunday, the only day before we left without obligation. Our only plan was to hang around the house, maybe some shopping for California apparel and spend some time down at the beach.

After all, that is the reason most people come to this place, isn’t it?

We chuckled a little at the guest book with its suggested local activities; the Boardwalk, Warriors game, trips to state parks to see the redwoods. It all sounded good, but these suggestions were not anywhere near our prioritized activities. Little did we know we would run smack dab into the middle of a Santa Cruz tradition the next morning while trying to sneak downtown “before the crowds”.

Be well and thank you for reading!