Volver, Volver, Volver...
We gave thanks for each other. As a family, for the love, and support that has endured the test of will and time, together. We know he is growing frail, and the illness is relentless yet still, there is only hope and life, until there is none.
There are friends and family that feel like milagritos of their own, you have to wonder how you got so lucky to share this lifetime with them.
I miss my friend in Portland, talking on the phone does that.
My friend from NYC was home, because her father may be ill, but she too is hopeful. We drove down Ventura Blvd. feeling like tourists. Then I saw it, the cafe with outdoor seating and a fire pit and we ventured in. In our element once again, we caught up for the next few hours, made plans to visit once again.
At dinner with my parents I chose the table by the fireplace. We discussed their next visit to the city and all the things we would try to do and see. Shared the news about my friends from LA & SF, conveying saludos and promising to return them as well.
Got the farewell text from the airport...
My best friend from first grade picked me up and we laughed and caught up over a cafecito. She is my contemporary hero, for so many reasons she may not even know.
Drove down Ventura Blvd. with my best friend from ninth grade, told me about the Christmas transformation taking place at his home. My NYC friend and I had looked for a tree lot with no luck. Seems they drive to Santa Paula and chop their own down, I mean doesn't everyone?!
Out again with my friend from NYC, decided to grab a drink before Volver. That part of Ventura Blvd. had a hookah bar, but not the drinks we sought. The red square was Russian, very dressed up, formal Russian dining with no bar but a smoking patio full mainly of guys. Walking to the next spot we saw a bread baker making fresh hot pita, and found ourselves in a Lebanese restaurant that was reservation only. Took us in for a beverage since we had no interest in dinner or their Armenian Lounge singer. They brought us marinated olives, fresh hot pita, and pickled beets to go with our drinks. A long way from the blondies pizza and beer we used to dine on in the dorm at Cal so many years before.
The film was beautiful, Almovodar has that gift. When I got home I woke my parents, because I could. I realize that giving thanks is daily, but to have the opportunity to do it over the course of a weekend, when schedules are on hold, computers go unpacked, and everyone is home- is rare.
There are friends and family that feel like milagritos of their own, you have to wonder how you got so lucky to share this lifetime with them.
I miss my friend in Portland, talking on the phone does that.
My friend from NYC was home, because her father may be ill, but she too is hopeful. We drove down Ventura Blvd. feeling like tourists. Then I saw it, the cafe with outdoor seating and a fire pit and we ventured in. In our element once again, we caught up for the next few hours, made plans to visit once again.
At dinner with my parents I chose the table by the fireplace. We discussed their next visit to the city and all the things we would try to do and see. Shared the news about my friends from LA & SF, conveying saludos and promising to return them as well.
Got the farewell text from the airport...
My best friend from first grade picked me up and we laughed and caught up over a cafecito. She is my contemporary hero, for so many reasons she may not even know.
Drove down Ventura Blvd. with my best friend from ninth grade, told me about the Christmas transformation taking place at his home. My NYC friend and I had looked for a tree lot with no luck. Seems they drive to Santa Paula and chop their own down, I mean doesn't everyone?!
Out again with my friend from NYC, decided to grab a drink before Volver. That part of Ventura Blvd. had a hookah bar, but not the drinks we sought. The red square was Russian, very dressed up, formal Russian dining with no bar but a smoking patio full mainly of guys. Walking to the next spot we saw a bread baker making fresh hot pita, and found ourselves in a Lebanese restaurant that was reservation only. Took us in for a beverage since we had no interest in dinner or their Armenian Lounge singer. They brought us marinated olives, fresh hot pita, and pickled beets to go with our drinks. A long way from the blondies pizza and beer we used to dine on in the dorm at Cal so many years before.
The film was beautiful, Almovodar has that gift. When I got home I woke my parents, because I could. I realize that giving thanks is daily, but to have the opportunity to do it over the course of a weekend, when schedules are on hold, computers go unpacked, and everyone is home- is rare.
posted by Lorena | 1:15 PM
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