I must have been about six years old when I had this nightmare: My mother was leaving us, going “back East,” and we were going to see her off. Perhaps we were at the airport. She was dressed for traveling, wearing a hat, and we had her suitcases. To this day, I don’t know where […]
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Tag: San Francisco childhood
Letting go
(Written in 2017) On Tuesday, I dropped the key to my childhood home into an envelope and slipped it into my sister’s mail slot. She was signing the final papers to close the sale, and by the end of the week, our parents’ house in the Richmond District would belong to someone else. Without my […]
The Summer of Sandals
A young relative recently graduated from middle school, and I was stumped as to what kind of gift might be suitable. I am not great at gift-giving, being borderline phobic about shopping and not being a craft-advantaged person who can whip up quirky home-made items that people would not immediately regift or donate to a […]
Chinatown
It was a gorgeous April day in San Francisco, so I took BART into the city and walked all the way up Grant Avenue, through Chinatown, to Live Worms Gallery in North Beach, where my brother-in-law Paul was having a show. Although I’ve spent most of my life in San Francisco and the East Bay, […]