Passing on Memories

My Dearest Love,

Last week, I took our children west to share with them some of our favorite places. Do you remember when we were young (well, relatively anyway) and we first went to San Francisco? For the first, and last time, you rented the car and we wound up with a little shit box that had one and a half cylinders and a slushbox transmission. It took two hours to get up to cruising speed. Forget about passing.

It was our first "driving" vacation and I wanted to show you the bit of coast between San Francisco and my cousin's place a bit north. I didn't know that you were so susceptible to motion sickness. I love a twisty mountain road and drove that POS rental like it was the finest hot Italian, zillion cylinder stud rocket. You turned an evil shade of green before we hit the third curve out of Sausalito. By the time we got to my cousin's, you were unconscious in my lap, dosed to the gills on Dramamine. What a pair we were.

Well, this Christmas break, I didn't want to hang around this place, haunted by memories of happier times, so I forced the kids to go with me to California to impose on my cousin once more. The original plan was to gather in Lake Tahoe and ski the light fantastic, but torrential downpours put the skids on that idea and we had to go to Plan B. And that was to do a couple of days in SF followed by a punt and hope for the best.

We landed in previously mentioned torrential monsoon rainfall to be met by cousin B and transported in his hysterically powered RS-car through the coastal mountains to his home and hearth, were we were met with a bone-warming fire and great Mexican food. He and T proceeded to spoil us with all means of good things, starting with a trip down the coast to SF.

There, we hiked through Chinatown and found that little hole-in-the-wall dive place we ate at a couple of times before. You remember the one where the owner took the order and refused to give us menus, simply saying, "I take care of you?" Same place.

The look on our children's faces was extremely dubious. Due to previous conversations between the adults, they were anticipating mystery dishes that would include unidentifiable items, many with tentacles still wriggling around. We started with strange tea (see picture) that defeated all of our attempts to drink it without ingesting flowery bits. As it turned out, anyone leaving the table for a bathroom break came back to find "their" tea containing their neighbor's herbal flotation.

When the food did come, it came in torrents and it was soooo delicious. Even K and J found bits and pieces that they liked.

We did the cable cars of course. J hung off the side like an old native, always at the front, as if he were captaining his own hilly vessel.

We went to Alcatraz prison for a tour which creeped the shit out of me. I don't know, but those walls saw such human degradation that they whispered to me the whole time I was inside the building. I followed J around as he listened to an audio presentation. I don't know what he heard. The unit they handed me was speaking in Croatian.

We had dinner at an old, family style Italian restaurant that was a few blocks off the beaten path down by the waterfront. K was secretly pleased when she received a wine glass from the waiter and was able to sip a little Montepulciano red along with the rest of us.

There was the fancy hotel, more of Fisherman's wharf, Irish coffee's at the Monte Crisco (remember those?). When we finally left to return to B and T's house, the kids were sated and satisfied.

The whole trip was like that. I had a wonderful moment in the kitchen while the family swirled around me as we slowly prepared the evening meal, drinking wine and beer, dancing in place to the music pumped up loud, and I felt the embrace of family. That feeling of being held and supported by presence of those loved ones close to you. I haven't felt that since you went away. I missed it and felt drunk on it that night.

Then we flew home to a wintry scene of snow and slush. Both kids bolted from my presence as soon as we got home, but I didn't mind. They had been in close contact with me for a week and they were not running away from me as much as they were running to another place that they lusted after. I spent my New Year's Eve alone and not minding that too much.

Midnight passed without my noticing it. So much for the much hyped celebration.

Well, I must go. We have a guest coming for dinner on his annual migration from up north to his winter home in Colorado. Dinner needs to be put together and I think I will dose him up on garlic shrimp and pasta. We will raise a glass in memory of you.

With love,

D.