Pre-Father's Day Dream

Last weekend I flew down to San Diego and got to visit both my sons Alex and Zac and Sally's daughter, Hannah. Zac drove down from Santa Barbara to join us. My role as Dad with adult kids is still new to me, though the twin boys are now 26 and have been making their own way for several years. I'm not exactly clear on how they see me now, what they need from me now, what advice or worries to voice, what confidences to share. But what remains crystal clear, is the pure pleasure of looking at them. I can still feel a sense of miracle at their being at all and my visceral connection to their lives, and theirs to mine. yummmm.......

We played doubles tennis with one of Alex's apartment-mates, Sean. At this point, my main goal is to make a few good hits and most importantly, not to keel over, or spoil all the fun with a heart attack. It worked out pretty well, though there was a rebellious muscle in my neck, determined to spoil my illusion of being a 20-something too. Within a half hour after we stopped playing I couldn't turn my head right or left and had to turn my whole body to speak to someone throughout the Padres game we went to see with Hannah and Heather. I was all of 56 years old for that event.

The first night I stayed at Alex's apartment and he stayed at his girlfriend Heather's. He gave me his bed and Zac slept on a pad on the floor next to the bed. Before waking up the next morning, I had a long, convoluted dream that I've mostly forgotten. But there was a scene in the middle of it where my Mom showed up. She's been dead almost 30 years now and I almost never get an appearance from her in my dreams. It must have been triggered by how connected and happy I felt with Zac and Alex close by.

When we woke up I told Zac that I had a rare "Rochelle sighting" in my dreams and that I remember asking her to come to my backyard and see the flowers I'd planted that were all blossoming. Then the dream evaporated - as they do - in the welcoming breeze of the new day.

It wasn't until last night that the dream came back and grabbed my attention. While I'm no dream-specialist, it is clear to me that I wanted to show Rochelle her grandsons Zac and Alex who are in full blossom at age 26.

Parenting at Baja Fresh

I was waiting in line to order my burrito when I overheard a mother talking to her young daughter at a little table just behind me. I'd passed the bright-eyed, long haired, 8-ish year old and her mother as I walked in.

Mother: "So I don't think Melissa invited Jessica to her party. Why do you think that is? Are they not friends with each other anymore?"

(short silence)

Mother:"When I ask you a question, I expect you to answer me."

(another silence)

Mother: "You are eating like a pig. That is an embarrassment to me. We're leaving right now. You embarrass me. There's nothing you can say to make me change my mind. Get going."

I turned and saw them walking out.

If only a giant hand on an infinite arm could have pushed through the door and grabbed that mother by the ear and proclaimed in a sonorous blast, "Your parenting embarrasses me. Get your butt in the car and wait for your daughter to finish her buritto. Also I'm getting her a sweet churro for dessert."

On second thought, that's mean spirited and I've had enough of that watching the Republican convention.

Better scenario: the giant hand pins the mother on the floor and tickles her mercilessly while she laughs and squeals uproariously, the tears streaming from her eyes, caring nothing about her bunched up dress, or the fact that her daughter - looking on with eyes as big as full moons - eats her burrito wholeheartedly.