It Wasn't Me

This photo was captured through the window of an Amtrak train on a flip phone camera. It was taken eleven years ago, May 10th, on my way from Hollywood to San Diego.

Dad wasn't doing well. He’d fallen twice in one day. I was going to take care of him for a week. Maybe the most taxing weeks of my life.

He and I had a couple of difficult conversations, like did I believe he was going to get into heaven.

We also had to go to the doctor (it's own challenge to just get him to wear pants) and get him a hospice referral. Fun stuff!

I saw Dad for last time on May 16th, 2010. He died a week later.

Below I've posted a piece I wrote about that week. It may feel a little disjointed in that it's also about joining a writing class that became a major part of my life and got me through a time that might have otherwise been impossible as I wallowed through the grief of losing Dad and then Mom six months later.

Richard Herd was in my class that summer and heard me read that piece. He asked my to perform it again at a public reading he was hosting at an art gallery. This terrified me. But he said that it could help others going through similar situations. So I did it. Maybe it can continue to help people.

The format is a little weird because I wrote this way back when using Microsoft Word. Now I need a license to access these documents as anything other than a PDF. 😕

Bud and Jeanie Forever

Today is my parent’s sixty-third wedding anniversary.

They were married in Denver and honeymooned in San Diego.

Mom was twenty-years-old. Dad was twenty-four.

They are so adorable!

Mom's a true California girl.

Body surfing! Dad taught me how, probably on this very same beach.

I love Mom's white sandals.

They stayed with friends on Edgeware Road in Kensington.

Even on her honeymoon she was doing the laundry.

This is what love looks like.