Today as I sit here at work, surrounded by a pile of papers
as I work on some super important documents from London, I find myself thinking
of all those around me who are struggling, heck we're still waiting to hear
that the housing association will "accept" me and daughter Megan so
we can live in the lovely manufactured home we looked at! it's like, who knew
that it would be that much trouble for the privilege of living in a
"trailer park." Okay, my friend Margaret advised me NEVER to call the
place a trailer park -- it's a "community!" anyway, who knew we'd
have to give our life history and then some just so we can live in this
community even though the chick who owns the home has already accepted us? Then
I realize that several members of my immediate circle are also going through
mega life changes... new adventures lie ahead for ALL of us... landlords are
selling houses like crazy and people must move... The Greens in Golden Gate
Park, San Francisco, is being worked on and I'm afraid they'll knock down my
favorite tree...so many changes. Nothing ever seems to stay the same,
everything and everyone keeps moving. My childhood friend Barry Hirrell says
they'll probably find some of his old plastic Army men buried in that park...
and I'm sure they'll find lots of other items such as cars and glass bottles
with notes in them that we buried... remnants that remind people we were
there...everywhere we go, we leave a mark.
then I think of Jim...who is fighting for his life right now
at that hospital on Geary St. in San Francisco where my mother had surgery to
remove a cancerous tumor back in the '70s. and how wonderful and compassionate
he is...taking in all of our stories when he read them as if they were his and
really FEELING them...I never forget sharing stories with the gang and with Jim
at Adair's house...and the LOVE of this awesome family, everyone coming
together to be there for Jim. and Jim's input was always so real and
heartfelt...he loves everyone. and I think of my Dad who says he's beating
Parkinson's Disease! and I realize how much I love him and I remember all of our
adventures...how my Dad insisted I read Adair Lara's columns -- the stories
about her life and family in San Francisco. Reconnecting with old friends from
the past yet clinging to the present...
yet amid the stress, there is still lots of fun to be had
and ukuleles need to be played. last night I sat in on Mike Sult's guitar class
to reconnect with old friends...and then attended the Big W jam -- and we sang
and played and I lent my friend John one of my ukuleles because he took his
apart. Word to the wise, never take apart your only ukulele! I now cannot
imagine my life without one close by!!! Seriously! But he'll get it back
together again. And Saturday there's Ukes on the Loose...life is pretty good.
and through it all, I'm waiting to hear from a trailer park!
hehe!
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