Lisa, I have two distinct memories about your Dad. One is the Coors beer he used to bring us at Hubbard when Coors was still hard to get and cool -- before the boycott. He would pick it up on one of his flights and somehow get it to us before it spoiled. It made me feel very special.
The other is when Lola decided to quit smoking and have sex everytime she wanted a cigarette and I remember this smile from your Dad...(I think I was at your home when she was telling us this...).
Losing our parents is one of those rights of passage that is nearly unbearable at times not just because we lose someone we love, but also because it is part of our DNA falling away -- it mirrors our own mortality, which is very hard to consider.
Like birthdays for instance -- Happy Birthday Colleen...yes I reflected that I was 54 in 1954 -- but I had a pretty awful year last year, so all that numerology stuff has no hold on me....
I am planning the inauguration parties...in DC. More on that later. I'm late for a deposition. Work is finally picking up.
Love you all.
P.s. Ok, it's the end of the day friday and the end of three mojitos and a Friday night at the Argus, my friend Mindi's last day bartending and other friends show up and I count my blessings (if not my drinks) and remember that in the darkest times I have fabulous friends to turn on the lights.
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