Our trip to Portugal is special. Decades ago, after graduating, my group of friends decided to form an investment club whose purpose was to pay for travel later in our lives.

For years we met to invest a little bit of money, and to catch up with each other.

Then, two years ago, one of us passed away. We decided it was time for our club to actually pay for travel.

After much debate, we settled on the Azores. before we head to the Azores, My husband and I decided to tour the Portuguese mainland— Lisbon and Porto. Other of our friends are taking similar trips… to France, or Amsterdam or London. This Sunday we are all flying into the Azores.

Lisbon… 

 

I have resolved to visit my father more often. I can work remote, though I’ll need to coordinate with my husband. 

Today, my husband and I are flying off to Portugal for a couple of weeks. There, we will meet up with many of my old college friends and see the sights. 

My father, a widower in his 80s, lives alone on his farm. For decades, he and the DVs were friends. But then Mr. DV passed, leaving Mrs. DV a widow as well.

Apparently, my father asked Mrs. DV to move in with him—not as a couple, but as friends for companionship.

Mrs. DV declined the offer. My brother has a few speculations why; he thinks Mrs. DV, being very conservative, found living with a man out of wedlock unacceptable.

My brother has sworn me to secrecy on this. If my father learns that I know, he might not talk as freely with my brother.

I've always respected that my brother has a deeper relationship with my father than I do. My brother can get my dad to open up. My father will still have deep conversations with me, though they tend to be about practical matters like money, legal issues, and business management, since that's my area of expertise.

My main concern is for my father. How lonely is he? Is visiting a few more times a year truly enough?

We are in Seattle's peak of summer. So we are attending festivals and BBQ's as well as hosting visitors. 

I say "BBQ" but my friends from the south would gently correct me. These are cookouts and potlucks. 

Saturday evening we hosted and a dinner for some old college friends, and their kids, of my husband. My husband felt little uncomfortable that the kids are all in their late twenties. The passage of time is creeping up on us.

Sunday we hosted a large BBQ for our social circle. I would guess around forty people showed up. The crowd was a combination of friends and people in the program... or friends who are now in the program. 

And we are back in Seattle. 

The flight home had a little drama. One of the passengers wouldn't comply with the safety regulations. She had a long argument with the flight attendants about her luggage and not wanting to check an extra bag even though there was no space. The attendants eventually called the police who escorted her off the jet. 

We just enjoyed a wonderful side trip to Picton, Ontario. I didn't know much about it, but our old friend PB runs a B&B there, and it's a popular weekend spot for Torontonians.

My husband, our friends G and J, and I met up with PB for dinner. As a local expert, he gave us fantastic recommendations for our weekend.

PB mentioned the locals sometimes refer to the Torontonians as Torontidiots. The growing tourism industry has raised prices as well as providing jobs. This mixed blessing doesn’t always land well with the locals.

Friday, we went e-biking. The weather was perfect. A long bike trail connects many nearby small towns. We spent hours cruising the trail, stopping to snack at local bakeries and ice cream shops. Exhausted but content, we enjoyed a great dinner after resting up.

Friday evening— back at our rental house we saw many fireflies around the property. My husband has never seen them before and was enchanted by the little glowing bugs. 

Saturday was more of a road trip. We had a delicious French-style lunch at a small restaurant PB recommended, boasting incredible views. We drove around, visited a lavender farm, and explored Picton's shops. That evening, we all had dinner at the superb Royal Picton restaurant . PB, always seeking to help his B&B guests, quizzed us on our experience, eager for our recommendations.

Beyond the activities, we had many good conversations over the weekend. G, J, my husband and I are all navigating aging parents, a topic we discussed at length. PB offered a great perspective on the "retirement" question. He observed that we high-achievers are often on a "hamster wheel" of work and rewards. While goals and purpose are crucial, he noted they don't need to be corporate-driven. Having been in our situation, he approached retirement like a new job, intentionally finding meaningful ways to fill his time. He still spends his time productively, but he spends it how he chooses— running the B&B in the summer. Travel the rest of the year. 

It's been a pleasant week here in the valley, filled with visits to old friends and a bit of adventure.

On Tuesday, we went white-water rafting with a local guided tour. It was a great time, and I definitely needed the exercise—I slept really well that night!

Wednesday was Canada Day, which meant more visits with relatives and catching the local fireworks display.

During one visit, an uncle directly asked me when I was retiring. His philosophy is that if you're frugal, it doesn't take much money to live well, and that your body will slow down much faster than you anticipate. So, he believes in enjoying life while you can. My father quickly chimed in, "But you have to have something to do."

Have something to do. Don't become that angry old guy who does nothing but watch TV all day and complain that no one listens to him.

  

What's Growing in My Father's Garden?

In my father's garden, you'll find potatoes, red beets, and even stray sunflower seeds from a nearby birdfeeder. Honestly, my dad has eaten a remarkably consistent diet of boiled potatoes, pickled beets, some meat, and other boiled vegetables almost every day of his life.

At 81, he still lives on his farm. While he's slowing down, he continues to manage things well. Nature is beginning to reclaim parts of the fields, and he no longer fights it back. He recently retired from his job as a school bus driver and is even making arrangements for someone else to clear the snow this winter—a task he's done for himself and his neighbors for years. These small but significant changes have led his sons to speculate about the future.

The fate of the farm has been a slow-moving discussion among my brothers, my father, and me for many years. Dad would love for one of us to take over the farm, and it truly is a wonderful place. Realistically, though, we'd need to take a significant pay cut to move back to the valley. As peaceful as the farm is, I have built a life for myself in Seattle. My friends and opportunities are there. 

Personally, I'd be happy if my father sold the farm and moved to a nice retirement home. But he's just not there yet.