Golden Leaves – Part 2

In a November 13 blog post, I wrote a haiku about a tree, filled with golden leaves. It reminded me of my father:

A tree in autumn
Gold leaves sashay in the breeze
Winter harbinger

If the tree reminded me of my father, the leaves brought to mind all of the memories my family has of our time with him. For his 87th birthday in May, my siblings and I gave him a box filled with some of those memories.

Here are a few “golden leaves”–notes I wrote to my dad to add to his box:

One afternoon, when I was a young teenager, I’d just finished cleaning the kitchen. You came in, looked around and asked, “Can you tell yourself you did the best you could do?”

I, of course, knew inside that I had not done the best job I could do. Although I hardly enjoyed cleaning the kitchen, just asking myself that question made me want to do better, and I found all kinds of things I had “missed.”

When I finished the job, doing “the best I could do,” I remember feeling proud. It’s a question that has remained in my “Little Voice Library” ever since.

+ + +

Some of my happiest memories are of watching you and mom dance together. It was like a magical antidote to the turmoil that was sometimes in our lives.

I remember hoping I might dance like that with someone someday.

+ + +

I’ve always been amazed, and perhaps, a little envious, of your ability to play the piano and guitar by ear. Some of my favorite memories are of you playing at family reunions when I was a child, and, as an adult, listening to you and Christiane play. The music brings me joy, but even more, I love the pleasure I always saw in your face.

+ + +

Remember the terrible knee aches I used to get as a little girl? They hurt so badly, I used to wake up crying in the night.

You called them “growing pains,” and I remember how you’d come into my room and sit beside me. I don’t know what felt better. The warmth of your hand as you rubbed my knee, or that you cared enough to get up in the middle of the night to try to make me feel better.

Looking back, I guess you probably knew what those growing pains felt like!

+ + +

I remember when I was a little girl, we’d go to visit our uncles and aunties in Sacramento or San Francisco. At the time, it seemed like such a long way away from Fairfield, but it was only about 45 minutes.

So, on the way home at night I’d usually fall asleep. Though once we pulled into the driveway, I almost always woke, I pretended to be asleep for the pleasure of having you pick me up and carry me to my bed.

Looking back, I wonder if Cyn, Kim, Tami and Chuck were really asleep, or if they, like me, pretended to be asleep, too. No matter, you always proceeded to carry each of us to our beds.

+ + +

One of my recent and most treasured memories is of a walk you, Christiane and I took in a small village in Austria last year. You were in the beginnings of the terrible pains brought by prostate cancer, or, at least the pain you could no longer hide from us.

I could tell you no longer had the stamina that, even well into your 80s, often surpassed my own stamina, so I appreciated and no longer took for granted being able to take a walk with you.

But what I remember most about that day is this. As you and Christiane walked in front of me, often hand-in-hand, every once in a while, you turned and checked to see that I hadn’t fallen too far behind. Sometimes, you waited to let me pass, I suppose in case I started to feel left out.

Once again, I became your little girl, even as I’m in my 60s. It was a poignant moment for me—the feeling of being taken care of, even as an adult, as a mom with grown children, as a grandma. Now that Mom is gone, you are the only one in the world who can make me feel that kind of love and care.

I’ll always treasure and remember that feeling.

+ + +

Thank you, Dad, for being the best father I could have asked for. You taught me goodness, by example. Most of all, you taught me the difference between goodness and perfection.

I love you.

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Golden Leaves

Yesterday, I wrote a haiku with my father in mind.

A tree in autumn
Gold leaves sashay in the breeze
Winter harbinger

I pass this majestic tree every day as I walk in a park near my home, and through each season, especially in this year of pandemic, something about it has brought me peace.

When its leaves turned to gold this fall, I decided it reminds me of my father, who, at the age of 87 is in his own autumn season, fighting for his life against prostate cancer.

The tree leans, its roots exposed, fighting to keep its grip on the earth that sustains it. Yet, laden with golden leaves, the old tree shows there’s still plenty of life and spirit within in its branches.

I’ve attempted to write my thoughts about my father many times in recent months, but haven’t been able to finish anything. We’ve all been trying to keep our thoughts positive, and my intent in writing anything about my father has been to express my gratitude to him for my life–for choosing me over his blue Jaguar. I want to thank him for raising me to be who I am, and for being everything a father should be. But, writing about those things feels more like goodbye than gratitude. And so, I haven’t finished anything, because I don’t want any hint of saying “goodbye.”

But somehow, seeing this tree as a metaphor for my father makes it easier for me to write about what I’ve been grateful for.

When my paternal grandmother was alive, I used to say she was the “goodest” woman I knew. Yes, I know goodest isn’t a word, and although “most good” might have been more “proper,” something was lost in that properiety. So, I chose goodest as the better word to describe her.

Although it’s possible that grandmothers only show their best sides to their grandchildren, I never saw a bad or mean bone in her body. She was decent, caring, loving and hard-working.

Today, I think of my dad as the “goodest” man I know. He loved me and my four siblings the best way he could, though I know in recent years, he’s wishe he’d been around more during our childhood. But, as an Air Force pilot, he was often gone for months at a time.

No, that doesn’t mean I think he’s perfect, but listening to him express what he knows of his own imperfections and mistakes in life has also made me realize one can be both good and flawed, and in realizing his imperfection, he’s helped me to accept my own.

My father is a quiet man, but friendly to everyone. He’s got a gentle (sometimes wry) smile that often makes me wonder what he’s thinking. People who know me may think of me as quiet, or at least, not very talkative. I get this from my dad.

Today, he’s fighting prostate cancer with everything he has. He’s currently going through his second round of chemotherapy, only a week after finishing radiation treatments. I know he’s in pain, and he’s weak with barely enough appetite to sustain him. But he forces himself to eat and get up and move though it would be easy for him to just give in. This, perhaps more than anything, is proof of the life he’s led, that he is doing everything he can to continue to be near those he loves and who love him.

The following words are from one of my favorite songs by The Lettermen. Amazingly, this morning, it played on Spotify as I walked by the tree. My eyes burned with tears as I thought of my father, the tree, and golden leaves.

Quiet thoughts come floating down and settle softly to the ground
Like golden autumn leaves around my feet
I touch them and they burst apart with sweet memories

In my next blog post, I’ll share sweet memories of my dad.

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I Must Be Getting Old

When I published my last couple of blog posts, I noticed that WordPress had made a HUGE change. For anyone who currently has a WordPress blog, I’m sure you already know what I’m talking about. But for those of you who don’t use WordPress, here’s what changed:


Here’s a snapshot of the good, old “Classic Editor.” It was so similar to Word, I hardly had any learning curve at all when I first started blogging on WordPress. I took for granted that I hardly had to think about it as I used it.

Then came the Gutenberg Editor!

According to WordPress, the Gutenberg Editor is new and improved. Oh. . . and more intuitive for WordPress users. Not.

Also, can anyone explain why, if it’s new and improved, they decided to call it “Gutenberg?” Here’s what it looks like. You tell me if it looks intuitive.

My internal old person starting screaming:

  • Why’d they have to go and mess with something that was working just fine the way it was?
  • I’ll show them. I’ll just Google “How do I go back to the Classic Editor?”
  • Damn Millennials.

Then, I took a deep breath. “You can do this,” I told myself, as I furiously typed “how to use gutenberg editor wordpress,” on YouTube.

Amazing what one can learn from YouTube!

(Come to think of it, is that something an old person would say?)

Posted in Uncategorized | 12 Comments

It’s Time

I’ve been considering signing off of Facebook for several months now, for a variety of reasons. This has been a tough decision because it’s been my lifeline to friends and family since sometime in 2008.

In the beginning, it was great to see pictures, share memories and reconnect to people I hadn’t heard from, sometimes for decades.

A short scroll would catch me up with what was going on in the lives of dozens of new and old friends. I loved sharing pictures of my life, too–pictures that have now become a history of the last 12 years, from marriage to divorce and marriage again, to book publications, to places traveled, to grandchildren.

I will miss all of that.

But what I won’t miss is the amount of time it took away from other things I could and should be doing. (Note my haiku on the clock photo above!)

Most of all, I won’t miss the divisiveness I’ve seen over the last few years, and, the inability to share an opinion without potentially inspiring defensiveness and sometimes vitriol, just because I have a different opinion.

I won’t miss seeing people I love and respect sharing fake news and fake memes, especially when I don’t have the heart, the energy, or the courage (depending on who posted it!) to point out its falsity. Sometimes we are better off not knowing every single little opinion people have about things–they may not be things we want to know, or even should know. Yet, with Facebook, we spill our feelings about everything.

I did it myself after the election. Although I felt some empathy for people who voted for Trump (I remember how I felt four years ago when the candidate I didn’t vote for won the election), I slipped and made a comment about “being glad we turned away from a cliff.”

I didn’t mean to offend Trump supporters, though will admit my comment may have been poorly timed. At any rate, someone I care about took offense.

I realized then that tensions continue to be high, and who knows how long it will continue. With Facebook’s algorithms that cater to our need to be part of our tribes, it’s likely to continue indefinitely. In that way, I think the negatives of Facebook far outweigh the positives.

The things that made Facebook great will still be there. I’ll still make memories, even if I don’t share the pictures. I’ll still have friendships–true friendships–via email, phone calls, Zoom meetups, and EVEN in-person get-togethers.

I’ll continue to write about life, opinions, writing, etc. on my blog, and I invite you to visit. If you’d like to stay in touch, feel free to use my “Contact” page, and I’ll send you my email address.

Love to all my Facebook friends and family. I’ll peek in from time-to-time to catch up on all of your lives, because I know I’ll miss you.

But I won’t miss Facebook. ❤

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One Question – With Guest, Linda Apple

Welcome to Episode 2 of my ever-changing series, “One Question.” My guest this month is my very good friend, Linda Apple, author of BOWWOW! Book of Winston’s Words of Wisdom, her latest book.

Linda and I chatted about writing and life, and as always, we had a good time. (A few sips of wine for me and bourbon for Linda probably didn’t hurt, but trust me, it was only a few sips!) So, I think you’ll enjoy getting to know a little about Linda and the background on her latest book.

We all have busy lives. If you don’t have time to sit down for a 30-minute interview, I’ve split this episode into three different segments:

“One Question” starts at 3:14

“A Reading” starts at 8:52

“After Show” starts at 18:48

After you watch the interview, head over to Amazon for a copy of BOWWOW! Book of Winston’s Words of Wisdom. It’s a fun book for children and adults with lessons from the wise Scottish Terrier, Winston!

By the way, Winston even has his own website:

If you’d like to know more about Linda and her other books, visit her website at:

Posted in children's books, dogs, One Question, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments