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Sandra Martin Productions Blog

I haven't written anything on my blog for a while, as I have been going through a very difficult time.  My mother passed away a couple of weeks ago.  Although she was 99 years old, we never expected her to die.  I know that sounds incredible.  Any fully functioning adult living in the real world, and not in a state of denial, knows that when people live to be 99 plus, their days are numbered, and that at some point soon, their life will end.  We all knew that, of course.  We knew it...in our heads.   But, in our hearts, none of us truly believed it.
Though she was incredibly healthy most of her life, my mother had overcome several illnesses during the last couple of years that should have, by all rights, ended her life, and would have stopped a lesser person right smack in their tracks.  Beginning at age 97, she had shingles.  She recovered.  She had 2 bouts of pneumonia.  She recovered.  She fell, face down on hard floors, a number of times...and amazingly, never broke any bones.  And, to top it off, just 2 months ago, this woman, at 99 and a half years of age, had major surgery for an infected gall bladder!  To give you an idea of how tough and spirited my mother was, her doctor told us that just before she went under the anesthetic, she looked up at him and said, "Give it your best shot, Doc."  She pulled through the operation, she made it out of recovery, she even survived a series of mysterious seizures that occurred a few days after her surgery.  We always joked that she was like the energizer bunny, never running out of energy, never running out of life.  My daughter even said that if, by some miracle, she actually DID die one day, we should tell the undertaker not to do anything drastic to her, because she would surely pop back up and say, "I'm fine...I was just resting!"
So even though she was 99, even though we knew, even though...even though....even though....it's a shock.  People have said to me, "You are so lucky to have had your mother all these years."  And of course, I agree completely...I am very fortunate.  And I know they mean well.  But I don't want to hear how lucky I am.  I'm grieving, and it's hard to feel grateful when you feel so lost and so empty.   The very fact that I had her for so long makes it that much harder to lose her.  99 years is not enough.  No amount of time would be enough.  I want more...one more day, one more hour, one more phone call, one more visit.   The gratitude for what I had will come, someday....but today, I just want more.


I have recently returned from a 16-day tour of Spain, Portugal and Morocco.  Each country was unique, and each was fascinating, for different reasons.

Portugal was our first destination, and nestled alongside the Atlantic Ocean, it was beautiful.  A small country, it was serene and peaceful, with beckoning winding streets that held great promise of undiscovered treasures.  Unfortunately, we were only there for a couple of days, but it was a wonderful beginning to our tour.

Next we traveled to Sevilla, Spain, where we saw an amazing flamenco show and I rediscovered the wonder of sangria, which we drank in great quantities!  From there, we crossed the Strait of Gibraltar by ferry into Morocco, Africa, and for the next six days, explored Rabat, Casablanca, Marrakech, Fez, and Tangier.  Morocco was fascinating, difficult, luxurious and poverty-stricken (within the same city and often within the same city block), and at times scary...but most of all, impossible to describe.  Each city was different than the others, each held its own charm, repulsion, mystery, or fascination.  I can only say I am glad I saw it, am grateful to have experienced it, but I would never want to go again. Having survived it, however, (in spite of being in constant fear of eating or drinking unsafe food or water, which you had to be even in the nicer hotels we stayed at, and also realizing that flushing toilets are not essential as long as one can still squat over a hole in a sloping floor, with a bucket of water nearby to pour down the hole), we recrossed the Strait of Gibraltar on our way back to Spain, taking time first to play with the all the monkeys that came out to greet us.  They were friendly and inquisitive, jumping onto our shoulders from nearby trees, and posing for pictures with our group.  We were told, however, to hang tightly onto any shopping bags or purses we were carrying, as they would grab and run away with anything that might contain a treat. When we could finally tear ourselves away from such delightful playmates, we traveled on to the beautiful resort of Costa Del Sol in Spain, alongside the Mediterranean Sea, where we had a very welcome day of leisure at the beach.

From there, it was on to Granada, then Toledo, and finally Madrid, where our tour ended.  All in all, it was an amazing trip, and one I am reliving as I write these words.