Here is my annual tribute to my mom, my best friend and the greatest lady I’ve ever known. How lucky was I? Happy Mother’s Day!
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……Robert Sexton
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 readingHere’s my annual Father’s Day post, adapted from an article I wrote for the San Francisco Chronicle in 1997. Happy Father’s Day! Here’s to you Dad…
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
Here is my annual tribute to my mom, my best friend and the greatest lady I’ve ever known. How lucky was I? Happy Mother’s Day!
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……Robert Sexton
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 readingWhere I live, our new normal seems to include fires that ravage hundreds if not thousands of acres and in the process destroy homes, businesses and many lives. Now don’t get me wrong; I realize this is no way to begin a humor blog but sometimes reality is brutal. We’re now accustomed to planned blackouts during high winds so downed power lines won’t start fires.
My good friends Sharon and Jim recently moved into their beautiful home in the hills of Santa Rosa but had to evacuate last month as fire quickly engulfed the rolling hills leading to their home. They only had time to grab some clothes, important documents and their laptops before fleeing from the approaching flames. (Thankfully, their home was saved.)
This got me thinking of what I’d take if I needed to get out of Dodge, so to speak. That’s a toughie. Naturally, my first grab and go would be my pets. The grabbing part, however, would be a bit difficult with my particular cats. I have 5 of them and just realized I’m short on carriers. Note to self: get more carriers.
Continue readingLast week I had occasion to visit the neighborhood where I grew up in Santa Venetia, also derogatorily known as Scabo. I’m not sure what that stands for but since it’s an ugly word, I’m guessing it wasn’t known as the most desirable place to live. But I beg to differ.
Kids don’t know they don’t live in a mansion. I certainly didn’t. We had 4 bedrooms that weren’t much bigger than some large walk-in closets and closets not much wider than a refrigerator. Now don’t get me wrong; I didn’t care one bit. I had what I needed and that was enough.
Our little house
To me, our Doughboy Pool was the bomb (better known as groovy back then). Other neighborhood dads helped my dad install it. That’s how it was; neighbors helping neighbors. On summer afternoons, being in that pool or playing ping pong on the patio were my favorite places to be.
Even as a teen, still in the pool
Now Don't Get Me Wrong 