kvetching up

The End of the Public School Era Saturday, after a ton of work and help from many people, we threw a party for Abby to celebrate her ompending high school graduation. Because next weekend is the 4th of July, lots of people would otherwise be out of town and unable to come, so we celebrated her June 28th exiting from the Seattle Public Schools over the weekend. Lots of people came, almost everyone who we invited turned up. The weather cooperated, in general it was lovely. My relatives, both direct and through marriage, didn't want me doing anything because I had visited the hospital the day before. I didn't stop,  nonetheless. I didn't have to clean up, which was nice.  Abby had a bunch of friends, all of who seemed lovely. The new Weber worked well, and the house is so spacious it was never crowded. I can say that Jenny was sorely missed. She was the consummate host. Abby got lots of cards and money from people, and one special gift. Paul, my dear and thoughtful friend of m...

A year ago, on the first Thursday of March, Leiney, my sister Jane and I were lying in the bed that abutted Jenny's hospital bed set up in the master bedroom. Jenny hadn't been conscious in days. In fact, she had very much been in the active stages of dying. We were facing her and chit chatting. As you sit next someone in the throes of death, someone taking days to die and who is unconscious, and suffering, fear dissipates. Compassion and love fill your heart. I remember the day before, I sat alone with her and sang every song I could remember that meant so much to the two of us, that she loved so much, that we loved so much.  On that Thursday, none of the three of us could leave Jenny's side. Some days ago, before she lost her faculties, she had seen her dead mother and father standing in the room, a common happening as you near death. Fish breathing, which had been going on a few days before and is another feature of impending death, had passed, and now, she was taking a ...

Entry 1 3:31 p.m. I have so many questions about Zagor . Three years ago, when we were traveling through Europe, we stumbled across this dilapidated bookstore on a Venice canal.  It was cross between Powell's, The Strand, and a typical hoarder's house, complete with cats. The girls and I were in heaven. I think of Zagor, a comic I found in the stacks, on occasion because comics seem to me to be a peculiarly American form. Zagor looked more like a character from Harvey Birdman than from any comic universe.   I am funny in that while I am fiercely protective of the past, and had a habit as the kids were growing up of taking a ridiculously uncountable number of photos, I don't revisit them, with few exceptions. The kids have never really seen the photos of their birthdays, camping trips, sleepovers.  They have never asked.  I'm not sure why I was so intent on capturing the moment, and why it stopped.   Jenny, as predicted, is feeling better today, and ack...