Four Years Ago Today

The little boy in the photo is the light of my life.

Four years and one day ago I could never have imagined that anyone could capture my heart the way he has.

On December 9, 2005, we arranged for a family dinner--Farida, Jason, Nasreen along with Sunny and Eddie, Jason's mom and stepdad. Farida was to be on her way to the hospital later that evening, with Hunter scheduled to be born the next day. This was to be a last get-together before the Blessed Event.

Nasreen and I went on ahead to BJ's Brewhouse in Irvine to await the arrival of the others. We ordered Cokes and waited. And waited.

Hunter has always marched to a different drummer, so enroute to dinner that night, he decided to change his parents' plans.

"Let me try to call Jason," Nas offered. "No answer," she said, after the phone went to voicemail. Still we waited, figuring they'd gotten caught in Friday night traffic. She tried again; still no response.

Suddenly Jason rushed into the restaurant.

"Don't you people ever leave your phones on? Farida's water broke, and we're on the way to the hospital."

Why we hadn't received his call, I don't know, but that was before the days when my cell phone became my primary means of communication. I probably didn't have it on. In any case, we scouted out our server, let her know we wouldn't be dining that evening and let her know why. As I recall, she even comped us our drinks. Obviously she didn't want to delay us any further.

She needn't have worried. Hunter decided he wouldn't be born immediately. About 10:30 that evening Jason suggested that we might all want to go home to get some sleep, and he'd call us with any news. It made sense to us since it looked like Hunter wasn't going to make his appearance anytime soon.

At a little after 7:00 am the next morning, Jason called.

"You have a grandson."

Whoohoooo!!! I couldn't wait to see the little dark-haired, brown-eyed boy we'd been expecting. After all, how else could he be with a Pakistani grandfather and a half-Pakistani mother with beautiful olive skin and big brown eyes?

Once again Hunter had us fooled. What hair he had was blonde, his eyes were clear sky-blue, and his complexion was fairer than mine. Needless to say, he was gorgeous--and he looked exactly like his father.

He still does.

These photos are the latest I've taken of Hunter, shot on Saturday, December 4, as we had breakfast at Pete's.

The eyes are still blue, the hair still blond and spiky, like his father's. He has a sense of humor and makes me laugh every time I'm with him.

And he's still the most gorgeous little boy I've ever seen in my life.

Happy Birthday, Dearest. Bestest Friend!

September 21, 2009 - a very special day for a most special friend . . . and if I've timed things right, this will post at 12:01 a.m. on 9/21/09 in Israel.

I wish I could be with you today to celebrate in person. It's been way too many years since we've spent birthdays together, and I miss you a lot.

Writing this blog has made the memory juices flow in earnest, and over the last few days and weeks, I've been thinking about some of the wonderful places and people we've shared.

Do you remember . . .

Slipping and sliding through the snow in Fawnskin as we city girls watched the white stuff fall for the first time in our lives?

The Amtrak trip to Las Vegas, where I boarded in Santa Ana, you boarded in Santa Ana, and we picked up Bill and Rich in Ontario? What a wonderful, raucous party of four that was! It's a good thing the train pulled right into the Union Plaza Hotel; we couldn't have driven anywhere?



The Elton John concert in Dodger Stadium where the audience yelled and stomped so loudly as Elton sang "The Bitch is Back" that the stadium shook?

Twohey's?

That horrible drive back from Las Vegas where you pretended to be asleep the entire way?


Jesus Christ Superstar at the Universal Amphitheatre with Gail and Evita in Century City?

Looking for the Tate house in Benedict Canyon . . . and finding it (at least the gate)?

Dinners with Farida and Nas at the Hollywood Ol' Spaghetti Factory? In the days when there wasn't an Ol' Spaghetti Factory on every other corner . . .

Coming back from a Las Vegas trip to find that Auntie Flo had fed the girls bacon for the first time in their lives?

Checking out the vanity in Bill and Rich's bathroom--and having Bill come up behind us?

Sundays driving to Palos Verdes to buy strawberries and straw flowers?

Cutting class to drive down to Ports 'o' Call?

The Thanksgiving I removed the pumpkin pie from the oven and dropped it, steaming hot, onto my foot and had to wear socks to Thanksgiving Dinner 'cause I couldn't get my shoe on?

The holidays when Champ realized we had had too many glasses of wine and took the opportunity to take a nap on the bed?

Those Idyllwild weekends where we'd have to call to let work know we were "snowed in" because we couldn't bear to go home?

Three-hour telephone conversations?

The purple swan from Nellie?

Driving somewhere--I have no idea where--with Auntie Flo singing Old Macdonald's Farm at the top of our lungs?

The night Abid and I stayed overnight at the El Molino apartment and we slept in your bed, awaking absolutely petrified to find Poopsie staring at me?

Your wonderful Camaro?

 Sharing a room at the Wawona Hotel, with a bath down the hall?

You, Doobie and me sitting at my dining room table during your visit to Bass Lake, watching the deer frolic outside?

There were many, many more people, places and events that we've shared over these almost-fifty years. I'm sure you can add to them.

If you never remember anything else, please know that I love you and cherish the years and the friendship we've shared. May this birthday be the best of all birthdays to date . . . and the least of those to come.

I love you, my friend.

meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Party Animals

August 29-30 was a weekend to remember. I can't think of the last time I attended two parties in two days.

The first had been in the works for several months. Pat's daughter, Carisa, had emailed me on April 29, 2009, to advise that she wanted to give her mom a blow-out 70th birthday bash. As Carisa's email stated:

As some of you may or may not know, my mother has signed herself up for the Peace Corps.  If everything goes as planned, she will be leaving for Africa next June and will be gone for a minimum of 2 years. So i want to give her a party she will never forget!  Please KEEP THIS PARTY A SURPRISE!  If and when you talk to her please don't even hint that I have been in contact with you.  I know how she is and if she has the slightest idea that I've talked to any of you....the probing will start and we all know what that can be like.

Carisa carried the caper off with a flourish. She'd invaded her mother's house during our trips up north to raid her mother's email address book and sneak treasured photos to create a marvelous slideshow.

In fact, between Carisa and her brother, Kirk, Pat was in for a week of surprises, starting with the appearance of granddaughter Stacia on her doorstep, followed by her parents, Kirk and Jenia. Pat thought she'd died and gone to heaven just to have her daughter, son, grandchildren and children-in-law at her side on August 27, her 70th birthday. As her blog shares, they all spent the day at Disneyland, and she figured their presence was gift enough.

What she didn't know is that some 30 of her friends and family had assembled at Carisa's friend Kim's condo to surprise her on the Big Day. That group included her big brother, Bob, all the way from Boston, along with some of his children and grandchildren. I'd sat with Pat on the deck of a Lake Tahoe Thai restaurant on August 16, as she called to wish Bob a happy birthday. He never let on that he'd be seeing her soon. (And at that point, I didn't know either. I found out from Carisa a few days before the party.)

When Pat walked into the condo clubhouse, her eyes got wide as she began to recognize those gathered there and realized they were there to celebrate with her. Her eyes darted from face to face . . . until they landed on Bob.

"Is that my brother?" she exclaimed, not believing her eyes.

I traveled with Pat to Napa once and Tahoe three times prior to the party and managed never to spill the beans. I came close, though. 

Farida and I decided to put our cameras away at the party, so we have no photographic remembrances of our own from that day. We will take with us the opportunity to reconnect again with Kirk and Carisa and their families as well as others from our old neighborhood. We had a wonderful reunion with Teresa, Mary Ann, Margie, Billy and more.

Well done, Carisa. Well done, Kirk. 

And for you, Pat, I hope we get to share many, many more birthday celebrations.

***

Most of the guests at the second party were a bit younger. Farida, Nasreen, Hunter and I went out to Mission Viejo to celebrate the 4th birthday of Maggie, daughter of Monica and Eric Toth. Once again it was "old home week" as I caught up with my girls' high school friends whom I hadn't seen in years. 

I know you're wondering. Didn't she take photos of anyone but Hunter? Yes, I did, but because I don't have permission to post them, they'll have to stay hidden for now.

I did take the opportunity to photograph the lovely hibiscus growing in Monica and Eric's back yard.

It was great fun to catch up with new friends and old at both parties.

Much love to all of you.