As you read this, I’m in Savannah, Georgia, hopefully sipping on a Mint Julep with my friend Sharon. But here’s a re-post I think you’ll enjoy. If you don’t, keep it to yourself!(Just kidding.) Be honest…I can take it.
I don’t know who I am.
Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying I need to find myself, like the popular phrase of the 70s. I’m talking about heritage, my family roots, that sort of thing.
You see, both my parents never knew their biological fathers. Both Mom and Dad were raised and eventually adopted by men their mothers later married; men I knew as my grandfathers. Continue reading
I almost killed my sister on my birthday.
Now don’t get me wrong; I realize it’s shocking to lead with that, especially since this is supposed to be a humor blog and death isn’t funny. Spoiler alert: there will be a happy ending. Sort of.
It started 3 days before my birthday when I called Vicki to see whether her doctor contacted her with test results from the previous week. At 64, she’s lived most of her life with debilitating obsessive-compulsive disorder, is developmentally and physically disabled and now has a muscle condition forcing her to use a walker. Life has not been particularly kind to Vicki.
Me, brother Bill and Vicki at Tahoe circa 1960
Vicki sleeps late and doesn’t have a cell phone or computer. I can only contact her via her home phone. She often can’t reach it before it goes to voicemail so I leave a message and hope she calls me back. But this time she didn’t. I figured she’s probably out getting dinner and will call me later. But no. Continue reading
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 honor of Mother’s Day…Yes, you’re right. I’ve posted this before. But feel free to read it again!
My mom, Loretta Rose, with Bailey
She gave me love as well as life; so whatever goodness I may bring to Earth began with the gift of my mother’s heart…
At some point in our relationship, my mom transitioned from being my parent to also being a great friend. I’d say it happened in 1985, when she was diagnosed with incurable, inoperable lung cancer. Continue reading
I’m writing this on Thanksgiving day (yippee, I’m not cooking!) so I’m contemplating all that I’m thankful for — naturally, family and friends. But one person in particular comes to mind today: Marty (Mr. G), my friend Sharon’s dad.
Mr. G (left) and his twin brother Marsh
Recently I was invited to Mr. G’s 85th birthday celebration held at Spinnaker restaurant in Sausalito. The party took place in a room with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the bay where boats sail toward the Golden Gate and kayakers paddle under the row of restaurants lining the waterfront. A perfect day for a celebration.