You must first understand that my 90 year old father lives in the apartment with the best view in Santa Monica. 5th floor, looking south, on Ocean Avenue, two blocks north of Wilshire Blvd, right near the California Grade which goes down to Pacific Coast Highway. You know, when you see the promenade with the palm trees, the sandy paths between them, the low fence, beyond which is the ocean? Like you see in the movies. That's the view from the living room. You can see the Santa Monica pier to the south, and the hills toward Malibu toward the north. Sailboats are on the water, people on the sand. It is quite spectacular.
On Sunday morning there was some kind of race on Ocean Avenue. Happens a lot. The street was coned off on one side. There were many red t-shirts but I couldn't read what the cause was. 5K and 10K. My favorite runners: a man pushing a jogging stroller with a full size English bulldog riding. The young kid in a white dress shirt and green tie (which went with the green shorts). The dad pushing the twin jogging stroller, with twins riding.
When I was in Santa Monica over the last 6 years, I did not spend enough time at the actual beach. I decided that it is important to me to go every time...It's frustrating to be so close in the apartment, and not actually be on the sand. At night, I peer through the blinds and watch the waves rolling in. If it's not too cold, I open the window and listen to them crashing. So this time, I insisted and went down Sunday before dinner. It took only an hour...15 minutes down, 15 minutes on the beach, close to the waves, listening and smelling, and a half hour back up the hill. It's a good walk.
Cards and emails keep arriving. Hugs too, even via email are welcome! I am working my way through some of the books, and they are very helpful. Thought-provoking.
So I'm counting in weeks. It's now been three weeks. Most likely the longest 22 days of my life.
It was a good visit with my father. I can't remember when I was last down there. Some talking, some walking, some eating, some sleeping, some discussing of politics. Nice quiet time.
Things I have recently encountered as difficult:
*Arriving at the airport and not being able to call to say "I'm on the ground in LA. We'll talk more when I get to the apartment."
*Pinning the purple PANCAN ribbon on my shirt in the morning.
Ketzl is happy to have me home, I think. The asparagus need to be replenished tomorrow. The tomatoes need to get into the ground.
Process. Order. One foot in front of the other. The journey continues with one step, then another. Still in blur mode. But moving slowly ahead.
