You know how they say, "everything happens for a reason"? Well, one thing I think REALLY happened for a reason in mine and Van's life was that we ended up with an address of 345 Saco Street, Westbrook, Maine. For many reasons, I believe this experience was a monumental, life changing, decision... but for today, I'll just stick with one primary reason: Alan.
To begin this story, I will start with the summer of 2007. I had been accepted to the University of New England's nurse anesthesia program, and would be starting classes that fall. Van and I were ecstatic about our new adventure. But first things first: we needed to find a place to live. Mom and I headed to Maine to try and find the perfect little place that he and I would call home for the next 2 and a half years. We looked ALL OVER Portland, South Portland, Westbrook, and Scarborough. We even drove way down to Old Orchard/Biddeford and checked out a few places. All in all, we came up with 3 of serious interest. So when I made my choice to go back to Liberty Commons in South Portland and sign the lease, I was thrilled. Out of the 3, it was definitely my favorite. I had visited it almost last in the home touring, and I felt lucky that I hadn't already signed at another place. So you can imagine the crushing blow I felt, when only 3 or 4 hours after visiting it, I learned that they had just (minutes prior) rented their last top floor condo. I wanted to live here so badly. I could envision myself cooking in the kitchen, studying at the kitchen bar, guests staying in the guest bedroom with the it's extra large guest bathroom... It was "the one". But it was not to be. Van and I had agreed that I would rent whichever I felt was best, with only one request from him: that it be a top floor. He didn't want to have to listen to people walking above us, as we had lived on the bottom floor at our first apartment after marriage -- and it was so irritating. But this place, was so perfect. It was the one! So I called him, and explained how great it was... how the insulation would be so much better... how it wouldn't be as loud as an apartment... and he finally, hesitantly agreed. But afterwards, Mom convinced me that I needed to honor his request... and so I very sadly, went to my second choice and signed a lease. That night I was UPSET. Upset with Mom. Upset with Van. And upset with myself for not signing a lease with Liberty when I had had a chance. I woke up at 2 or 3 in the morning, because I was so bummed about it. I just knew I had made a mistake. I rolled over and huffed loudly... and continued huffing and puffing enough to finally wake Mom up. (Which is sort of what I had been going for.) I became more irritated when she didn't seem to take my frustrations seriously. And so I huffed some more (and I'm ashamed to say) I started to cry. I just knew I had ruined everything and couldn't she care just a little bit?? And then she started with a lecture that I didn't fully understand the extent of it's meaning until much later. She said something to the effect of: "I don't know why you do this! Always second guessing yourself. I've been praying for a place for you all to live since the day you got accepted to school, months ago. I'm sorry you are disappointed, but I believe that God heard my prayers, and I believe that this place we have rented will end up being where He wanted you. Now go to sleep!" :)
A few months later, on July 28, 2007, Van and I locked the door of our Knoxville, Tennessee apartment for the last time, dropped off the keys, and drove out of the complex in a 26 foot Uhaul, with our pathfinder on a trailer pulled in the back. It was one of the most exciting nights of my life. We were headed to Westbrook, Maine.
Over the next few months, Van and I talked about the fact that our time in Maine would go by quickly, so we agreed that we would at least be very intentional with our time. We would do everything "Maine-ish" from start to finish... and so for Christmas, I surprised him with an L.L.Bean fly-rod. He had wanted to learn to fly-fish since he had watched "A River Runs Through It" when he was about ten years old. I have never seen him act so youthfully excited as he did over that fly-rod. It was like the ten year old Van had resurfaced. Daily, he would go and stand in the parking lot of our condo complex and practice casting, although he had no idea what he was doing. He was planning on taking a fly-fishing lesson that has been part of the fly-rod Christmas package I had gotten him, but until then, he would continue playing with the rod.
Just 22 days after we had moved in, an older, retired couple had moved into the complex. One day while Van was standing out by our garage working on his casting, the old man drove by, rolled down his window, and said, "Is that a fly-rod you got there?" (We later learned that he had known very well that it was indeed a fly-rod). Van said it was, and then he asked Van if he was a fly-fisherman. Van said no, but that he wanted to learn. Alan thought for a minute and then said, "I tell you what, if you want to learn, I'll teach you. You come over to my house about 5 o'clock tomorrow."
And so the friendship began. Not a very likely friendship. Alan was 83. Van was 27. But almost every day, Van was over at Alan's, learning how to cast, learning about flies, learning about where to look for trout in a river.
I teased them that I felt like Van was my child. I would get home from my clinicals usually around 4:00. Almost as soon as I had walked in the door, our intercom would be buzzing, Alan wanting to know if Van was home yet. It sounded to my ears like, "Is Van home?? Can he come and play??"... and I would have to say, "No, not yet, but as soon as he gets in, I'll send him over." haha
Over the next 2 years, Alan and Van would fish many ponds and rivers all over the state of Maine. They would take a camping trip to Northern Maine - 6 hours into the middle of nowhere, they would even go on a guided fishing tour. It was a friendship where Alan, a life-long fisherman, passed on his knowledge to someone who desperately appreciated it, and where Van gave Alan the ability to feel needed and important again.
One of Van's favorite things about Alan was his stories (which he was full of). He often started them out with,"I'm the luckiest guy on earth -- and it all started when I got bit by a cobra in World War II..." He was also full of one-liners that kept you thinking. One of our favorites was, "If you wait for a beautiful day, you'll never go fishing." And he lived in such a way... not waiting for tomorrow to do the things he wanted to do today. Even well into his 80s, he was always ready for the next adventure. He never stopped dreaming and he never stopped planning. He truly was a young soul.
Alan got sick with cancer shortly after we moved to Texas. In February of 2010 (after moving in November of 2009), we headed back to Maine to say our goodbyes, as we realized how aggressive his cancer was. He was in good spirits, and Van took him on his last trip up to Freeport to get some flies at LL Bean. In June, he passed away. This past summer, we had the honor of going with his wife, Rose Marie and his daughter out on a lobster boat to spread his ashes. It was exactly the kind of beautiful Maine day that would have invigorated his soul and left him longing for his fly-rod. A unique and special way to remember a unique and special man.
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| One of the first pics of Alan and Van. They had just finished putting the canoe on top of the pathfinder, preparing for the next day's fishing trip. Alan would always complain that I took my pictures too far away... that I needed to make the subject closer. I was remedying that with this picture... close up and personal. :) |
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| Our first Thanksgiving away from "home"... we invited some friends, including Alan and Rose Marie over for a traditional Southern breakfast, complete with homemade biscuits. |
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| Van was teaching Alan and Rose Marie about facebook, as we had signed them up with an account to stay in touch with us once we left for Texas. |
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| One of our last photos of the 4 of us... this was our last night as residents of Maine. |
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| Alan on his fishing-weekend-trip with Van to Washington County in Northern Maine |
Our lives were forever changed because of Alan and his wife Rose Marie. I, for one, am a better photographer, Van is a better fly-fisherman, and we both are just better at life... trying to remember not to wait for a beautiful day to fish... or anything else for that matter. We really try to live in the present. And just think, we would have missed it all if I had gotten the Liberty Commons condo that I wanted... So glad we ended up on Saco Street in Westbrook, Maine. I guess things really do work out for a reason. :)
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