I don't have time to write anything thoughtful but I may not be back here for a couple of days...

I survived the weekend. In fact, it was worth surviving. The memorial went as well as I could have hoped for; it was small but actually quite lovely. A lot of people got up and spoke, including my friends. I went first, standing behind the podium in a pale blue linen dress, my shoulders curved forward towards the microphone and my eyes never leaving my page of carefully written words.

Tomorrow morning I am moving to Venice Beach. I have the truck reserved and friends to help me. I can't wait to be back amongst my things and my books and my bed, me in my own space. But yesterday I cried, thinking about how tonight will be the last that I'll ever spend in this condo. I've actually been coming here, to this condo, since I was ten years old when my aunt Jean lived here and for the past five years it has become a sort of home, the kind of home that my friends return to during holidays and vacations and visits to their parents. Soon, I will only have one home, one with clean white walls and windows facing every direction, in between a quiet canal and a feral ocean.

For now, I just want to thank some of my friends:

Liz, for being the one who lets me know that she'll always be here, the only person in my life who makes me feel like I have a sister.

Holly, for her energy and unconditional faith, for attending both of my parents memorials and for standing up at that podium during my father's.

Abby, for her voice in the final days of my father's life and for a picture of the sky that I'll always keep.

Paula, for giving me the visual comfort of my father's favorite hat during the memorial.

Donna, for the best kind of grace...fierce grace.

I can't even begin to thank or to list all the friends that have helped me through my life in the last years but without the ones above, I would not have made it as gracefully through these last few days.
10:24:07 AM     comment []