Laughing, happy, and probably with a gin and tonic in hand. I miss him already.
Monthly Archives: July 2011
Climbed a mountain and I turned around
Friday morning, I checked my phone to make sure that I hadn’t missed some earth-shattering call (I’m not that important, seriously), and saw that I had a text from my dad that read, “call asap.911” Knowing it couldn’t be good news, I called him and found out that his brother, my uncle and basically additional parent, has cancer. Well, wait: cancers. As of now, we know that it’s in his (failing) kidneys, lymph nodes, bones, lungs, and potentially his liver. The outlook for a situation like this is, as you might imagine, not great.
We visited him in the hospital last night, on our way home from Tahoe. He was asleep when we arrived, and awoke a few minutes later. We sat in his dim hospital room, he with far too many wires and IVs sticking out of him, me on the edge of the bed “so he could look at me,” and GP in a chair in the corner, knowing how hard it was for me to even remotely hold it together. We talked for nearly an hour, in the sort of way that you would hope to talk with someone who has played such a huge role in your life, in what might potentially be the last weeks of theirs. Walking out of the hospital, GP commented that my uncle and I are “so alike,” which was particularly meaningful (and, yes, completely heartbreaking) because it was proof of my uncle’s impact on my life. The way I choose our words, the way I joke, my wanderlust, and my preference for gin and tonic come cocktail hour? That’s all him. Every single bit.
I want this to be a bad dream. I want to know that my uncle is going to get to be an old man, just like he wanted. I want life to seem fair, and for cancer not to fucking suck so much. Because it does. Even from the top of a mountain, where problems like the bitchy email you got from a coworker, or the fact that you’re going to be walking funny for a few days because you climbed that damned mountain, cancer…sucks.
You need to eat this.
As a native Californian, I am basically required to love avocados…and I do. I saw this as a suggestion (let’s not call it a recipe, ok?) on The Kitchn, and was all over it. Best breakfast that’s achievable in roughly three minutes, hands down.
Toast with a quarter of an avocado mashed/spread on top, a little sprinkle of salt and crushed red pepper. Get on it!
Friday, Friday
There I was, all ready to quote Rebecca Black (yeah, that song is still my jam) and be all, “look, I blogged twice in a week! Throw me a party!” and, lo and behold, there was a novel format. Well, not novel– it’s something that many English teachers at my high school made their students do, though I never ended up doing it. So, I suppose, here’s my chance!
I am from to-do lists, from Post-Its and Windex.
I am from the small, creeping sounds of Sunday morning.
I am from the sand in your car during summer, the flickers of sunlight through the shade.
I am from tables full of sugar cookies waiting to be decorated and uncontrollable giggling, from Yvonne and Noble and Emily.
I am from the impromptu beach trip and the tendency to be just a little bit late, despite my best efforts.
(And as for the weekend, tonight I’m looking forward to dinner with the family (including the stepsister, her husband, and their babies), tomorrow my plans include a matinee of Avenue Q and Sunday, I want to make even more plum jam (our tree is a bit out of control)!)
Wanna get in on this? Head on down to Friday Fill-Ins HQ.