Memory lane

Hey, all. Hope you’re doing well. Our stay in California is drawing to a close. Alan left last week and has been in Hawaii for legal training for the last seven days. Meggie and I fly off tomorrow afternoon. We’ll hook up with Alan during our layover in Phoenix and make the final leg of the trip together.

We’ve had an amazing time here visiting with family in friends. I was especially glad that Meggie got to spend time with her great-grandmother Arcadia, whom Meggie calls “nanang” -- “grandmother” in Ilocano.

I took my mom and grandmother to the airport yesterday. They made it back to Honolulu safely. It was tough dropping them off. Grandma was very nervous and worried about the trip. I had not seen her so agitated and frightened in a long time. I’m struck by the difference between her now (needing a wheelchair to get to the check-in counter) and the grandmother I remember from my childhood. Despite being a tiny woman, she was once surprisingly strong and vital. I remember the day I was attacked by our family dog (maybe at 9 years of age?), when she pulled me up from the ground and kicked the animal off me with her feet. When I think about that day, I can almost feel two strong arms bearing me up from behind. Yesterday, those arms quaked as we helped her in and out of the car.

Meggie and her nanang got along very well. Meggie was uncharacteristically gentle when interacting with her great-grandmother. When nanang lay on the couch, Meggie often stood next to her and softly stroked her peppered hair. She’d whisper, “Fine, nanang. Nanang fine” and kiss her forehead. We were amazed by this. This is the same child, let me remind you, that loves to wrestle and almost knocked me unconscious with a head-butt to the temple once. She’s usually pretty rough. But Meggie could sense her nanang’s frailty and knew how to treat her.

After dropping grandma and mom off at the airport, I met my friend Sylvette, who works in the vicinity of LAX. We arranged for me to follow her in my rental car to Burbank. I can now say that I’ve been initiated into Southern California’s infamous traffic, having braved rush hour in Los Angeles in the rain. Had I been back home, rain would have been no obstacle. But here it’s a bigger deal. Sylvette and I got separated several times, and I took the wrong highway (of course), but we made it to her house.

The route rekindled childhood memories. We went through downtown L.A. where my mom and I often went to pick up my grandfather from work. We passed Griffith Park, where my Uncle Manny used to take me to the Griffith Park Observatory. There’s a laserium where we watched a laser show choreographed to Pink Floyd songs. It was perfection. We passed the L.A. Zoo, where my mother used to take my cousin Sean and me. Those congested highways that yesterday made me break out in a cold sweat are the paths I happily traveled as a passenger in my youth. And I have to say, although I’ve always known it, yesterday’s drive reminded me that there are indeed drivers and passengers in life, and I am a proud passenger. Drive me wherever you want. I’ll go along for the ride.

I want to thank my parents, uncles, aunts and other relatives and friends who have borne me safely along these roads over the years.

Hope all is well where you are. Drive safely.
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P.S. We're going to Disneyland tonight to see my Aunt Holly sing in a human Christmas tree. It's going to be amazing. Will take pictures and post them when we get back to Alaska. Have been unable to post pictures from here.