In My Mind’s Eye: Remembering Dad

In honor of Father’s Day, my blog today is more reflective than humorous. It’s adapted from an article I wrote in 1997 for the San Francisco Chronicle about the relationship I shared with my dad. Here’s to fathers everywhere…There’s an image I have captured in my mind. I’m in my car in front of the home my parents have shared for most of their 45 married years. Mom and Dad are standing on the front porch.

From the street, I can see the huge eucalyptus tree in their backyard, silhouetted against the evening sky. It’s gently swaying in the warm breeze while the full moon illuminates the manicured lawn. My parents are smiling and waving as I drive away after a visit.

Mom lives alone now that Dad is in an Alzheimer’s nursing facility, so that scenario has changed. But it never does in my mind. My parents always stood on the porch to wave good-bye when I left. Even in pouring rain, they still stood in the open doorway together. I always looked back and returned their waves. Continue reading

In My Mind’s Eye: Remembering Dad

Here’s my annual Father’s Day post, adapted from an article I wrote in 1997 for the San Francisco Chronicle about the relationship I shared with my dad. Here’s to fathers everywhere…There’s an image I have captured in my mind. I’m in my car in front of the home my parents have shared for most of their 45 married years. Mom and Dad are standing on the front porch.

From the street, I can see the huge eucalyptus tree in their backyard, silhouetted against the evening sky. It’s gently swaying in the warm breeze while the full moon illuminates the manicured lawn. My parents are smiling and waving as I drive away after a visit.

Mom lives alone now that Dad is in an Alzheimer’s nursing facility, so that scenario has changed. But it never does in my mind. My parents always stood on the porch to wave good-bye when I left. Even in pouring rain, they still stood in the open doorway together. I always looked back and returned their waves. Continue reading

No Place Like Home

Okay, so I slacked off this past week. I went on vacation with 5 girlfriends and ignored my laptop. Hey, can you blame me? But I’m not leaving you high and dry. What does that saying mean, anyway? So I decided to re-post one of my previous blogs which is similar to what next week’s blog will feature. Except it will be entirely different. Confused? I know how short some people’s attention spans are (not that yours is) and I’d hate to make that awful mistake of boring you with redundant material. Only I’m doing that this week, aren’t I? Hum…you have a point there. In that case, I’m relying on your poor memory not to recall this February 2013 blog. So sit back, relax, get your cup-o-joe, maybe a nice danish and enjoy No Place Like Home.

Happy Dad Day

As always on Father’s Day, I repost an article about my dad I wrote in 1997 for the San Francisco Chronicle. Dad died 7 years later. Although not a man of many words, he always made an impression. I’d say my family was like a modern day Walton’s. No John Boy or Mary Ellen, but still a close knit bunch. Yep, I was one of the lucky ones. So today I pay tribute to the funny and easy going man I had the great fortune to call Dad. Here’s Remembering Dad.

Memory? What Memory?

As you read this, I’m probably on a hiking trail in Boulder, Colorado. I’m no doubt stopping for a swig of water and wondering if the view from the Royal Arch Trail is worth the 3.2 mile hike rated as “difficult.” My guess is it will be. Anyway, since I’m there and not here, I didn’t get my blog written in time to post today. Therefore, here’s the encore presentation of a blog I wrote 2 years ago but which is none-the-less just as relevant today (sadly) as it was then. Enjoy and I’ll catch ya next week!

I can’t really say my memory is not what it used to be because mine has always been pathetic. Some people are fortunate to recall childhood memories, like who came to their ninth birthday party. I don’t even remember being nine, let alone a party. It’s gone – completely obliterated from the deep crevices of my gray matter.

Since my past has shaped the person I am today, it would be nice if I had a tad more recall. Bits and pieces of my life may be buried in the corners of my mind, but they’re stuck like Super Glue and not about to budge. For some, just mentioning a name or word from the past is all it takes to release the floodgates and their memories spill out with perfect recall. Those people annoy me. Continue reading