pWdumaNjA-6CEEBhRoD5euxNETs When All This Actual Life Played Out: Last dance

24 June 2016

Last dance

Corona del Mar, California
12 March 2013

Yesterday, the daughter was at work and I was outdoors fiddling with things.

"We got into San Antonio!" she texted me.

Then "MAAAAAAAAAAM!" when I didn't respond fast enough.

I got the text a bit later and sent back "YAAAAAASSS!"

It'll be the last public screening of her short. Last rodeo. Festival trail started and finished in Texas.

We took it other places, but neither of us went to Newport Beach. We agreed that it's become too hard to watch it.

But we'll watch it one last time in San Antonio at the end of July. With D.

I wrote the story just about 2 years ago. Periodically, I find bits of it, scrawled on random sheets of paper, in notebooks, in the notes app of my phone. A ghost story to help us make sense of the ghost who was about to enter our lives.

My own brushes with mortality earlier this year have given me a will to make sense of what's become of my own life. I'm floundering a bit right now, but there are things I know.

The daughter and I like collaborating. So that's good.

I can still write on demand. That's good.

I have stuff to say and stuff to do and maybe stuff to contribute. That's interesting.

It's Friday night and I'm tired. Things weigh me down--Brexit and the election here in November. My credit card was stolen, and there's the exasperation and documentation of that. My backup drive kicked the bucket and while I do redundant back ups, I did lose one document. It's probably just as well it was lost, but there is a part of me that feels like I still need to remember what was written there, though most of it is written on my soul.

So there is all that. And there is more. But there always is.

I have my new passport. I have to make plans to fly to San Antonio.


Tech stuff: Taken with my iPhone4.
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