My younger sister, Karen, who lives in northern California, was here for a visit the first part of this year. Along with her and her husband, Dick, was her precocious, four-year-old granddaughter, Jayne. On that day we were watching a lot of football, making our way to Superbowl. After some time, Jayne was bored, and frankly so was I.  It was time to get out of the house, and anyway, Jayne wanted to go play on the swings in the park close to my house. As we pulled in to the park, we could see everyone in the greater Los … Continue reading “GRANDMA, WHO IS THAT OLD LADY…”

  Mandatory family visits were an important part of my life as a young person living with my parents. It was an unwelcome obligation as I grew into my teen years, but in the early days it was so very natural. Didn’t every family do this family visiting thing? At least once a week, we visited my great-grandmother, Maria Arias Martinez.  She lived with one of her youngest daughters, my Great-aunt Maria and her husband, Joe.  My paternal grandmother, Felicidad Acosta, was her eldest child My sister, Karen and brother, Frank, and I would walk in the front door of the smallish … Continue reading People I Wish I Could Speak to Once More but They’re Dead

July 8, 1969 Happy birthday to my older daughter, Janet.  Forty-nine today. Forty-nine years ago, I woke up at the usual time to get ready for work, noticed my water had broken and said to myself, “Instead of going to work today, I think I’ll have a baby.” Baby was supposed to be born during the first moon walk, July 20, 1969, but you know how babies are. Both Larry, my husband, and I worked in downtown Los Angeles, just a few blocks apart from each other.  We often joked, “Wouldn’t it be funny if I went into labor during … Continue reading Happy Birthday Janet — Conceived in Vegas; born in Hollywood

I don’t often write directly on my blog, but today it almost seemed necessary because I’m so upset. I heard the guy in the White House (GITWH) praising the North Korean guy (NKG).  Once a week I proclaim, “This is it!  This is the final straw!  HE HAS TO GO!” What he said was something about NKG taking over his country with such poise and/or grace.  “Not every 26-year-old can handle something like that like he did.”   From Chubby Rocket Man to great leader.  Praise for a monster from a monster. Then I walked into the living room this … Continue reading THE GITWH

June 13, 2018 On this day, 45 years ago, I gave birth to a most unusual child.  I knew from the beginning she would be trouble (said with love). She weighed 9 lbs., 1 oz; kind of chubby, but she was also tall, so in other words:  perfectly proportioned and beautiful. She had small abrasions on her legs that were the result of her struggling to get out.  Guess I wasn’t fast enough for her. Since then, my life has never been the same. She’s a thoughtful nag – her fat, sluggish parents might be the bane of her existence … Continue reading HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KATIE

Recently, I heard the song, Beyond the Sea, sung by Bobby Darin in 1959. Instead of that song taking me to the beach, I was reminded that Bobby Darin was married to Sandra Dee, the first Gidget and beach bunny.  While I loved Sandra Dee, I also loved the television version of Gidget with Sally Field. I thought they both personified the perfect teenager, but Sally Field, especially, reminded me so  much of my sister, Karen, who turns seventy-one, today.  My little sister. She was my “little” sister not only in years, but in stature — petite, but also wiry … Continue reading Happy Birthday, Karen

Right now, this very minute my den/office/bedroom/playroom is a disaster.  With the influx of new toys and all the other things that come with Christmas and the holidays, the walls in my house seem to be moving inward to entrap me.  I don’t want to end up like those two old guys found dead in their New York apartment several years ago.  They were surrounded by newspapers and books stacked up to the ceiling with dirty plates, old toast and silverware scattered around their bodies. Said room is where I would like to write, and I believe if it were clean … Continue reading Why I Don’t Write

My father was a world-class whistler – the best I’ve ever known. He had a piercing whistle that called us kids in to dinner at twilight and a lilting whistle when he was in the garden and around the house. He tried to teach me how to do the piercing whistle – how to arrange my lips, teeth and tongue, but I did not get it despite hours practicing.  It seemed such a worthy thing to learn. Dad and I really didn’t talk too much about my life plans or for that matter any serious subjects.  I tried to engage … Continue reading Whistling Dad

I tried to make light of my breast cancer, but I wonder how light I would be if it were a higher stage.  Probably not as brave and light-hearted if I were having chemo with a stage 3 or 4, or if it had been in my lymph nodes. I’m a lucky and grateful woman, even if you consider the fact that it was cancer for the second time.  I had uterine cancer almost ten years ago – also a stage 1, caught early and no treatment required of any type.  My fellow patients in Dr. E’s waiting room poo-pooed … Continue reading Riding the Cancer Bus

My parents were in their last years/days when I wrote an email to my two friends who were going through the same sort of things I was going through. To share our stories gave us some relief, and we did this mostly by email.  It was a good way to get all our thoughts out and release the emotions we were feeling.  It also gave us some perspective and allowed us to laugh occasionally. My friend, Jo, and I were closest in experience at that time since each of us had both parents still living and both sets were at … Continue reading The Cuckoo’s Nest