|Great Grandma Bernice, Chino Hills|
The flight was from Kaohsiung to Tokyo and then on to LAX. This was right after the devastating earthquake and radioactivity scare/meltdown so my flight to Narita was empty. My row and the rows in front and behind were empty. Japan Airline was by far the cleanest plane Ive ever been on and the food was the absolute best. The miso soup alone was worth the trip, the tea was top. The wine was free. I wish I could of stayed with them to LAX. We had 3 hours to kill in Narita and spent most of the time in the kid playroom. The CNN footage of people standing in Depression Era lines trying to get out of Tokyo was not in my terminal. We took American Air to LAX, the plane was full. The crew was old, 40s + and not looking too great, but I had to hand it to them for not laying off female staff who looked like drag queens or should be pouring coffee in a diner in the middle of North Dakota. Finally, real people for once, I would not be the most haggard looking person on the plane.
Z was a nightmare. She could not get comfortable enough sleep so there was no way in hell she would let me sleep. She verbally abused me the whole time, “youre driving me crazy!” Where did you learn that I asked her later? I asked the stewardess for a small bottle of Merlot and whipped out a 10$ bill. She said, “oh we take credit card.” My shocked face immediately made her react and she said, “here its on me.” “Bless you!” I said in relief and just about drank from the bottle. I was her biggest fan the rest of the flight. Obviously she belonged to the sisterhood of mothers who understand.
|Outside San Diego|
The missing element was Uncle Bob who lost his battle to cancer. When I left 3 years ago he was starting to waste away. I endured the gut wrenching video Stella made of his memorial and in the end he was an emaciated, skeleton version of his former self. Stella's story is hard to listen to. The hours of sleepless nights nursing him, all the natural cures that they had tried, she hoped until the end of his miraculous recovery. She is very matter of fact about some of the more unpleasant details. Now she in her self sacrificial fashion is taking care of a friend who is suffering from breast cancer. I was sleeping in the bed Uncle Bob died in, which didnt creep me out at all. In fact I was wearing his jeans the first 3 days I was in LA. My co-worker told me the weather was warm, so I brought all my best spring/summer clothes and it was flipping cold. I was stuck in Uncle Bob's favorite jeans until my Aunt Terry blessed me with a bag of assorted quality hand me downs (and a new purse).
For my LA photo album click here.