You are currently browsing the tag archive for the 'family' tag.
While home for the holidays, dad and I ventured through some ol’ family photos as we consumed copious amounts of cinnamon-topped coffee. Here’s a fun photo of me & mom ~ as the reigning crown-winners (not kidding!) and title-holders (yes!) of California State Miss La Petite and California State Mrs (the only mother/daughter duo to have done so ~ big time!), we were asked to come back and perform the next year. What glamorous number did we perform?
Well, leave it to mom and I and how seriously we took the whole pageant thing, we performed “We’re A Couple Of Swells.” One of my favorite performances ever. I *heart* my mom.
And here’s the number as performed by Fred Astaire and Judy Garland to give you an idea of the actual song.
I have big shoes to fill. My mom’s shoes that is. And while she is still wearing her (closet full of cute) shoes, she has decided to kick off her high heels and trade them in for fun shoes. My mother who has worked a strong and steady career since she graduated college, has retired.
Mom opening her Stiletto Martini Glass gift.
One of my mom’s best friends since college recently recounted the story of the day my mom chose her career. Apparently my mom burst in the door to the sorority house and said, “I know what I’m going to do with my life!”
Now, I don’t know about you people, but this sort of career purpose clarity seems pretty darn amazing.
And my mom has done exactly what she set out to do. She was a teacher at a school for severely handicapped children, she then became the principal, then a school superintendent (the only female school superintendent at that time!), then Director of Curriculum for nine schools (I think it was nine…). My mom has given so much of her life to helping to educate children. She has always, all ways, acted in the best interest of the students and cared with all of her heart.
She continued her own education and received her Doctorate degree, ran Special Olympics events, championed fine arts programs, kept ahead of technological advances to make sure her schools were provided available learning tools, etc., etc.
I would go on and on… but my mom doesn’t actually talk about herself all that much.
(Unlike me who has a blog to share stories.) (Well, to be fair she has a blog too but she’s not really one to talk about achievements.) (Neither am I for that matter, I suppose.) (Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.) (Sorry– please continue…)
Without further self-chatter interruption, I just want to say that I have an amazing mother and I aspire to give as she has given (and will continue to give… though not through a 9-5 capacity).
Cheers to “Freedom!” (We decided “retirement” seemed like an antiquated term.) Congrats, Mama Bella. I love you beyond measure.
xo
Moi
Or so a friend of mine says…
Last weekend I hopped into the Jeep and headed to Tahoe to stay with my Aunt (well, one of my mom’s BFF’s) and her family in a fabulous 6 BR spread in Incline Village (complete with The Kinky Room…more on this later).
All I did was pull up in the driveway and I was met with hugs, an over-flowing glass of wine, a cheese plate, an entire salad, guacamole, hummus, thick slices of french bread, cherry tomatoes, fresh-from-the garden zucchini, stories, and laughter.
I must say, if you’re going to travel, this is the way to arrive.
Saturday morning was met with cups of coffee on the deck (with an amazing view of Lake Tahoe!), fresh blueberry pancakes for all (warm and delicious with melty butter and maple syrup), and a shower. A shower with a view of Lake Tahoe.
Then we packed ourselves into the car and headed out for a hike. And my Aunt (who I should mention here is quite crazy, quite amazing, and quite fun) took us on a winding path, up hills, down hills, over streams, etc., and lead us straight to…
A nude beach.
Where we saw a Nude Guy on a rock throne.
(And no, we did not get naked.)
Later that evening the Auntie and I ventured back to the beach (not the nude one this time) for wine and stories by the campfire.
And more wine. And more stories. And more campfire.
Then she got a text message from her daughter asking where we were and if we were coming for dinner. Dinner! Oh right! Only, Auntie’s phone is something of an antique and so she hands it to me to manipulate the thing to send a reply text.
“Tell her we’re drunk and we’re on our way!”
So I text (in caps because for some reason this is the only mode the thing will let one type in): DRUNK AND ON OUR WAY!
Then we laugh at ourselves…because that’s what we do.
We show up just in time to fling ourselves toward the spread of snacks (that we were scolded for going after…apparently they were being put away to make way for dinner) then find our seats at the long table on the deck filled with the growing number of family members. More wine, laughter, delicious food (thanks to B!), fun conversation, champagne, etc., etc., until we all found our way to our various rooms, making sure to not accidentally stumble into The Kinky Room.
So, The Kinky Room: The bottom floor (naturally) of the three story home featured a room that had glass you can see out but not in, a hidden bathroom (it matches the wall…sneaky style), and chairs all arranged around, for optimal viewing of course, ready?…
The shower.
There is no TV in The Kinky Room. Because, duh, people don’t watch TV in there. They watch the shower.
Anyway, to bring us back to a “G” Rating, we woke the next morning to light rain that made the air smell amazing, coffee that was warm and comforting, and avocado slices on french bread for breakfast.
And sighs… (on my part)… because I had to return to the city and prepare for a long work week.
But, regardless ~ any weekend spent laughing, eating, drinking, and exploring with friends/family is a good weekend. Ta-Hoe us is to love us!
All of my grandparents passed while I was a child so, as I got older, I sort of just “adopted” new family members. Two people in particular, Jack and Jane (yes, those are their real names!), became my grandparents ~ not by blood, but by love.
Grandma Jane was a fairly prominent artist ~ she was the Artist in Residence in Yosemite, she was featured on The Today Show, etc., and when she died, Grandpa Jack invited my mom and I over to go through her paintings and pick one out. (!!!)
It was… one of those experiences I will never forget. It was like opening a book to someone’s visions and dreams, sitting on the floor with complete awe and wonderment propelling me through painting after painting after painting. Though I’d known Jane since I was a small child, I knew her better that day. And I loved her all over again.
The painting I chose is actually unfinished. She died before finishing it… but to me, it’s perfect.
It hangs in my bedroom and every night before falling asleep and every morning when the sun starts to stream in through my windows, I peek at it. And dream in it.
(Please forgive the picture of a painting!)
It’s no small wonder that I would choose the French Riviera to visit for vacation ~ I was craving what the painting was providing. Color and contrast and texture and light and shadow and history and calm confidence.
And on my first full day in France, I made it my mission to get absorbed into the feelings and rhythms ~ to find the color and contrast and texture and light and shadow and history and calm confidence of the Mediterranean city.
And find it, I did.
Though I’m not really a “leave something unfinished” sort of person (generally speaking…that’s not to say I don’t have ten books started and discarded for another day), I find beauty every day in what Grandma Jane left unfinished ~ it’s a painterly sort of unfinished. And her gift could never have been more complete.
Taking a short break from the South of France Travelogues to share a quick story…
So last night was proof that adventure comes in many forms– while it was a relatively quiet Sunday evening for me, I was kicking back in my apartment in the city, listening to music, being absorbed in reading about the life of John Adams (talk about adventurous!) when I dialed my dad for one of our “couple times a week” chats. Contrary to my rather peaceful environment, my dad answers the phone and there’s music blaring and people laughing loudly.
I said: Are you at a party??
He said: We’re at dinner with the whole crew! There’s a band playing– you should be here!
Then he proceeded to tell me stories of what was going on and passed the phone around from person to person:
My dad: There’s a dog playing the accordion! [who knew this was an actual small town happening?!]
My step-mom: Hi– Hope you had a good weekend! Too bad you can’t be here with us!
My second-cousin: Hey kid! What’s new? When’re you coming home?
My second-cousin’s girlfriend: I WOULD HAVE GONE TO FRANCE WITH YOU!!
Etc., Etc.
So while I couldn’t be there in person, I was there in spirit having adventures with the family. (I mean, really… who would want to miss seeing a dog play the accordion??)
Rock on, hometown. : )
Dad & Step-mom
As I’ve mentioned before, my mother tells me I have the “courage to interrogate reality.” As much as one’s personality can be described in a statement, this one is fairly undeniable for me.
Last weekend I met my father and step-mother in Half Moon Bay as they began their week-long Harley ride “wherever they feel like riding to on any given day” and it got me thinking ~ my adventurous side (err… middle) is not only ingrained in my lil’ self, but most decidedly, inherited. I was basically born with a paradoxical sense of knowingness and curiosity which propels me to places I’ve never been and yet places in which I feel very much at home.
While there are vast variations on my adventurous roots, here’s a glimpse at a few that I’m sincerely grateful for:
Adventure of the Imagination: This comes from both parents. What I love though is that they are both very grounded individuals ~ I wouldn’t label either of them “dreamers” but I would certainly say that they make their dreams happen in their lives. And this ventures fairly far back in the family trees: My mother’s grandfather was an inventor ~ he had an airplane/landing strip at his home and apparently had Charles Lindbergh as a buddy. My grandfather on my father’s side had a mine in the mountains outside of Yosemite then purchased an entire railroad and community because he liked it there (so did I! This is where I grew up.). My mom was accepted into the San Francisco Ballet at the age of 16 (she politely declined) and my father became a race-car driver. I come from a long line of practical dreamers.
Adventures in Travel: Again, this comes from both parents. Mom is more of the “hotel in Paris/Nice/London/Tuscany” type and dad is more “ride the Harley and stop at an Inn on the coast whenever we feel like stopping” kind of traveler. I have heaping doses of both approaches… though that’s not to imply I ride a Harley when I travel. I’m a spontaneous planner, I suppose.
Adventures in People: I love people’s stories. Adore them. Why are they the way they are? Where have they been? What have they seen? What shaped them? Influenced them? I think my mom is a people explorer but she’s not really one to ask questions. She’d rather have people share whatever it is they want to share. My dad is a bit more of a “I’ll join you wherever you’re coming from” sort of story-listener. Both are empathetic listeners in their own way… I am straight out an empathic, curious, and voracious listener of people stories.
Any way you look at it, I’ve got Adventurous Roots. How can I not with a father who looks like this?
