Tag: mother

living off script

Life is an odd thing, if you think about it.  You’re born a squirmy, screaming thing that can do nothing for itself.  If you’re lucky, you’re cared for by people who love you just because you share the same blood.  You grow and you choose friends based on the clothes they’re wearing or the TV

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here’s to 50

On September 13, 1968, in a Florida navy hospital I found my way into the world.  Fifty years, which seems hard to believe, but here we are.  I’ve lived an amazing life, or at least that’s the way I see it, and hopefully, I’ve learned a few things along the way. On my approach to

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hello again

It’s amazing how time flies by and suddenly you realize you haven’t posted to your blog in weeks.  After my stepfather’s passing, there was pride and in between and since has been the never ending parade of tasks involved in helping my mother move on. She moved in with my brother and his family yesterday. 

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people on a train

Every weekday morning, I get up, get dressed, and head to the office.  My commute, like so many others, consists of a half mile walk, a 40 minute train ride and a half mile walk.  Door to door, it’s about an hour or so. When you get to the station, stand in the same spot,

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where the sun shines through

Ah, that feeling of a well deserved and well executed vacation.  Is there anything better? My mother and I took advantage of the long holiday weekend to visit north of the Bay Area, traipsing through the Avenue of the Giants, up to Eureka, over to a Pioneer Cemetery in Ferndale, CA, down to the Humboldt

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radio silence

Wow, it’s been a while.  Sorry about that!  It turns out that working a full time job, working a consulting gig for Pride, editing an anthology and writing a book all at the same time can keep a person ridiculously busy. Who knew? It also makes a person forgetful.   But, Pride weekend is upon

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