Too Many Places to Write

 Thanks to a notice from Google, I revisited this blog I started 13 years ago and swiftly abandoned. Except maybe I'll want it again.

THEN: A high school drama teacher, sad at losing a co-worker to cancer, a little tense about a new school year, and wishing wishing wishing I'd spent more time with my kids.

NOW: That last one? Never resolved it, and now it is too late. My kids and I get along; they're adults now and living their lives. But in a week and a half, my son will fly down from his mother's house and spend the day with me before I take him back to his apartment at college.

Because in the intervening years, my first marriage crumbled, though depending on the time you asked either my now ex-wife or me, you might get a story that made it clear the foundation wasn't all that strong. We had 2 great kids, and so I do not regret that marriage.

4 years ago, my mother got sick. She was suffering from an inflamed gall bladder, and because she waited too long to go to the hospital, it turned septic and she almost died. While she tried to recover from that, the universe played another joke and ultrasounds turned up some disturbing shadows. In July of 2020, they confirmed the shadow was pancreatic cancer. By October of 2020, she died. 12 days later I remarried in Santa Cruz, the only county courthouse that would perform weddings for non-residents during the pandemic. 

My wife and I permanently settled in Southern California. I was finally in the place I'd wanted to be, and the desperate urge to be ...somebody had kind of burned out. Because I wasn't a teacher anymore; I'd been recruited by a large professional services firm as a writer, and was treated better than ever before in my life. I still like writing Fanboy Planet, promoting friends, and occasionally try my hand at writing fiction. But my marriage and my job take precedence. The rest is for fun. Mostly.

A couple of days ago my daughter and I talked on the phone, and I expressed this to her. I said I no longer want to be famous. She laughed and said, "I didn't know you wanted to be famous." 

Really, I just wanted to matter. Which I do. So it's enough.

Cats, Cradles and Wiimotes

I spent some time this morning going through pages in the "My 1st Grade Giant Floor Pad" with my son. Listening to him sound out words, piecing together rhymes and creating new ideas beyond what the book asked of him, it fills my heart with joy and sadness. My boy's learning to read; soon he'll be able to tackle books on his own and that special time between us will be gone.

And that's parenthood -- excited for the next step and sorry to see this one go and missing the one that came before even though it might have been frustrating at times. I blink and it's gone.

I'm going to make him stop playing Wii now -- I need some more time with him tonight actually playing and talking with me. He doesn't understand why. In about twenty-five years he will.

A Lifetime in a Month

I feel my free time slipping away as we get closer and closer to the school year starting again. Actually, though, that's pretty lame of me. I'm trying to enjoy the moment and the work that I'm doing that's supposed to be fun for Fanboy Planet.

Right now in the valley a colleague and friend of mine really does have time slipping away. Diagnosed with stage 4 cancer, she'd barely made it home to hospice before she's become too weak to really do much of anything.

When the initial diagnosis came in, I thought, well, we'll all just have to pitch in together somehow and get the school year rolling, but she'll get well and pick up the slack. I mean, I just saw her a couple of weeks ago and she was fine. But that was June. And apparently a lifetime can pass in a month, because it just did.

She's not up to receiving visitors, and in the short window she was, I wasn't around, so I blew it. I doubt that I'll ever see her again, and I'm afraid to walk over to her office and see her empty desk.

God bless you, Rene. You are one of the finest educators I've ever met.

Accepting Limitations of Time

As always when I stay a few days in Los Angeles, and as always when I ever have a few days and much I want to do, I must accept that I accomplished maybe half.

With all good intentions, I was going to stay through Saturday, but my daughter sent the best email asking for me to come home without actually asking, except she's actually asking.

I quote:

"When are you coming home? Because when you say a couple of days it can mean a lifetime."

So, with THAT cat in the cradle, I shall have my lunch with Marcus Williams tomorrow and then leave Los Angeles for the fragrant air of Gilroy post-Garlic Festival.

Ups and Downs

I had an exhausting but exhilirating time at Comic-Con 2010. It always reminds me of the good friends I have all around, and how I really should be better worth their friendship.

I arrived late last night in Los Angeles, staying at Casa D'Angelo, the home of two of those incredibly good friends. Still wired from downing massive amounts of caffeine for the road, I poked around a bit online, did an update, then turned my phone off because for some reason now it only occasionally charges when still on.

Thanks to the Walking Dead being all around Comic-Con, I had a stupid zombie attack dream. At least my subconscious seems to be keeping the full violence away; I just have these disturbing dreams with a feeling of dread running through them.

Then this morning I turned on my phone to have texts from Carr offering coffee and breakfast in the house (I'm in a great studio above his garage). Then a voice mail from one of the assistant principals at school with news about one of our co-workers having taken seriously ill.

It doesn't look good. She's a great person, a great soul, and someone with whom I have spent a lot of time joking, kvetching and staying sane throughout the madness of being in education. I really appreciate that my AP called all of us before sending out the email about her illness.

I spent some time crying for her this morning; I hope that we'll be able to spend some time laughing soon.