Showing posts with label david. Show all posts
Showing posts with label david. Show all posts

Saturday, March 5, 2016

One year


On our front porch
It’s been a year. Oh, Leslie. I miss you. I’ve loved you all my life – since we were 16 – for 55 years. I can’t believe how lucky I am. My heart is full – full of love, full of gratitude, full of grief. I adore you. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. Oh, what a life we had. It’s hard to believe how good it was – how full of love, how true – nothing was undone, nothing unsaid, nothing unfulfilled. 


Our happy little family. You, me, David. Talk about love! Through deeply magical times, through everyday times, through hard times, you loved him and are loved by him in full measure. With a year of your life left, he gave you (and me) a whole city – San Francisco, the best city in the world. And now, he’s taking good care of me. You taught me everything I know about being a parent – a good father, thanks to you. Sweet Leslie, we have a Son for the ages.

How we wish, how we wish you were here.
With David in Beautiful Hue - our favorite place

I was thinking a few weeks ago that you probably thought adoration was your due. When the roses were in bloom, I would scatter rose petals where I knew you would walk when you got home, on the sidewalk, up the steps, across the porch and to the front door, and I think you were like, that’s about right – and so it was. 

I can’t say who – the announcement isn’t mine to make – but someone you loved is pregnant. It’s a girl(!) and her name will be Leslie. Someone you helped in elementary school is graduating from Jesuit and has scholarship offers (>$40,000/year) from St. Edwards and Baylor. I’m in touch with your friends and they are all doing well. Your Son and his husband are well. Your husband is doing better – after all these years I love you as much as I ever did. 
January 2015

It’s probably against the rules, so I’m not actually saying that we’re scattering your ashes in the beautiful National AIDS Memorial Grove, and on Haight Street where so many people were so kind to you, and at the magical 37 bus stop, and in the Castro – places that you loved and where you were welcomed. And of course among the roses and perennials at our home. 
About 10 hours before you passed away.
Edematous, but look at you - Hi Leslie!

We had a beautiful life together. And then, in the past few years, it got even better. There were times in those last few months when it got hard between us (I didn’t understand what was happening). Then, somehow, we both surrendered and love came down like a shimmering fall of beauty and truth. Real. And then, as our time ran out, we were pure – ahhh, Leslie, how we loved.

You died as you lived, loving and loved.
A new Leslie!

The pain is unbearable. Stabbed to death every day – and still grateful, still loving, still adoring. 












National AIDS Memorial Grove - in the meadow, on the hillside, among the redwoods. Leslie!









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Thursday, November 26, 2015

Days into days...

Days rolling into days, into nights, into days. 37 Bus to the Haight, hang out on the street for awhile, walk to Hippie Hill, nap in the sun…
Apple Pie!
After months of drought, it’s raining in San Francisco. Cold and rainy, so fine. The front door is open and it’s cold and the pumpkin pie just came out of the oven and yesterday it was a pecan pie and chocolate chip cookies – the apartment is smelling very good. Pecan pie to neighbors: ½ to Chuck and Stephanie and ½ to Sean and Emily and Leon; cookies to Tony on the third floor, to Chuck and Stephanie, to Lance and Spence, to David and Charles.
David came by yesterday evening late, on a walk with Jake. This is how it is, wonderful, having an apartment 3 blocks from David and Charles. I was thinking about their wedding rings – I gave them Leslie’s wedding ring and they had their rings made from that 18k gold layered into platinum from a goldsmith in the Castro. Perfect.

Better late than never: I started reading the Chronicles of Narnia a few days ago. I’m a few pages away from finishing the second book in the series, The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe. I surprised myself with tears when Father Christmas said… “’The time to use them is perhaps near at hand. Bear them well.’ With these words he handed Peter a shield and a sword…” And again tears at the end of the book… “But don’t go trying to use the same route twice. Indeed, don’t try to get there at all. It’ll happen when you’re not looking for it.”
David and Charles took me to Chez Panisse in Berkeley last Saturday. Chez Panisse is “ground zero” for California cuisine. Local, organic, sustainable – here is where these concepts first found voice. It’s one thing that happened out of the Free Speech Movement at UC Berkeley. Thank you again, 1960s.
Wait, what is this about free speech and food? The Free Speech Movement wasn’t really about saying “fuck” – it was about freedom, freedom from mindlessness, freedom from repression, from prejudice, from the gods of corporate, from being told what to eat, drink, smoke, feel, want, desire, dream...
Chocolate chip cookies (extra chocolate and nuts) and
Pecan pie with a layer of chocolate. Alright!
Baked an apple pie from New York Times recipe. Used tart apples, a little extra sugar and cinnamon. This is the second or third apple pie I’ve baked. I’m very happy with how it turned out – or at least how it looks.
All these pies are for Thanksgiving, which, thankfully, wasn’t a deeply emotional time for our family. On the other hand, Christmas was a very special time. So far, plans are David and Charles in Texas for Christmas Eve and part of Christmas day; John for Christmas dinner.
Guy and some of his flowers
This a photograph of Guy, the man who sells flowers at the corner of Noe and 15th. He's been selling flowers here since the bad old days of AIDS out of control. He's a story-teller, and he has some stories about people wasting away and dying, one after another, day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year. So many casualties...



Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Chemo, happiness, travel...

This is totally not in chronological order and I don’t what happened when – and also, the photos are not necessarily linked to the text. Just another example of writing to remember (These days, how I treasure what I’ve written about travel in Asia with Leslie!).
David with Jake, CK, Phana - Ocean Beach, 2015
Last week I went with Phana and Kayleen to visit David and Charles. It was a great visit, full to the brim with activities – Golden Gate Park, Neiman’s, Castro, Four Seasons, Ocean Beach – all over the place. I backed out of some parts of the trip as I felt the focus should be on David, Phana, and Kayleen’s relationship.
We came back to Dallas on Monday, back to chemo on Tuesday, massage for Phana on Wednesday, chemo/pump out Thursday, dinner with Debora Thursday evening, rehab on Friday morning, and fly back to San Francisco on Friday. Yikes! In some ways it’s been a hard week for me – lots of sadness and longing. Yet good in many ways.
Some of the parts that were good were spending time with Phana and Kayleen (see below), spending time with Phana, seeing my brother John, finishing early with chemo on Tuesday (I was in kind of a dream-like state and then about 3:30 Phana said it’s done), the whole massage scene (see below), dinner with Debora, a rare dream, and heading back to San Francisco.
Kayleen, Ocean Beach, 2015
Massage – I had a dream about Jessica A. in which I was trying to ask her something, but couldn’t. I contacted her a few days later about who might give Phana a loving massage and she suggested our mutual friend, Kristina. I was so happy that I know someone I can ask about a loving massage AND who would understand what I meant by that term AND that Kristina’s name would come up. Kristina’s apartment was a lovely, high space – even a sacred space, so I was super-happy to be there – so grateful for the whole scene. By the “whole scene” I mean the connections within Atrium Obscurum and the good people who make it beautiful, and more immediately, what was happening that day.
Spending time with Phana was basically the same as always – good. Spending time with Kayleen was an opportunity to discover a rare mix of child and adult. At first, she manifests child, as in totally 17. Then over time, she reveals depth and maturity. She’s dealing with a lot and dealing with it gracefully.
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Phana and I went to a government office to pick up an important document. It was a very busy office with easily a hundred employees and countless clients and in all that, the person who ended up helping, said that she knows who Phana is! And I was thinking that all of us (Phana, from Cambodia; the employee, from Vietnam; and me, a combat veteran of Vietnam) are all children of war, ending up together, momentarily, in that huge office.
Phana, Kayleen, David
This was after 7 phone calls to that office with hold times probably averaging about 5 minutes (so not bad in that respect) and 4 phone calls to other entities such as a Congressman, Phana got a call from the office: yes, they have her passport and she can come in Thursday to pick it up. And, "Do you know a Charles Kemp?" LOL. So they got some little pieces of my ass and a bigger piece of hers, which is profoundly dragging after this 2nd course of max chemo, but still a better choice to go in now vs. them mailing it. 
Onward Through the Fog!
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Today, she's in one of the big chairs in the chemotherapy infusion room and this man comes over, rolling his IV along, and among other things happening, looks at me and asks, "Do you love her?" I really did LOL and said, "I can't believe you're asking me that question." And with clarity said, "Yes." Pinned to the wall by an old man named George, with tears running down his cheeks. We talked about what kind of love - agape and filial I think. He also talked about how we're all one. I thought at first maybe he was an angel - really. Now I think he was a man having a vision. 
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I was at the corner of Duboce and Steiner in San Francisco when one of those long fire trucks with a driver in front and someone else steering the back of the truck. The person steering the rear was waving at children and when I waved, too, he waved at me. Good times in San Francisco! 
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David at Golden Gate
I was some sad the past few days. It began to lift as Phana and I drove on I30 today. I realize now that part of the problem was likely that for several days I had abandoned the practice of each evening writing down three good things that happened that day – because so much good is happening. Ha! So much good, so much sad. Playing a little catch-up now. Good…
I know people who say, “Yes,” when I ask, “Do you know anyone who can give a good, loving massage?”
I’m looking so forward to being with David. Prodigiously forward to that!
I’m happy to be bringing Phana and Kayleen to see David. I’m glad to be with Phana and Kayleen.
It makes me happy that Nora is buying Leslie’s car – and sad, too.
It was a good thing to have dinner with John. He’s a good guy.
It is a good thing to think of Leslie – of how she was so many things (wife, mother, lover, get it done genius, beautiful woman, decent person, and more).
Bible study was good.
Kayleen and Phana - SF,  2015
Looking forward to seeing Kristina.
Glad to be returning to San Francisco.
Grateful for the Grateful Dead.
Grateful for sativa.
Go Cali!
Friday
For walking with David, Phana, and Kayleen and for having coffee with them.
For San Francisco.
For dinner at Italian place on 19th Street upstairs in the Castro.
For sitting here while Phana and Kayleen rest.
Good times at tastings at four Seasons and cake place in the Mission.
Beginning to get to know Kayleen.
Being on Haight Street.
Talking with Charles B.
Saturday
Being in SF.
Going to beach with David, Phana, Kayleen, and Jake.
Lunch with everyone at the Slanted Door.
Haight Street, 2015
Walk with Kayleen, talking with her.
My apartment in San Francisco.
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There was some sourdough starter (levain) dated 2/2014 in the refrigerator. I started the reactivation process and within 4 days, had a fully active levain (doubles in size, forms many bubbles, and has a good sourdough fragrance in ~8 hours).
I then spread the active material on a tray in the dehydrator and dehydrated it at a low temp for about 10 hours yielding crispy, light pieces of levain.
Then I dissolved 5 gm of the dehydrated levain in warm water and started the reactivation process again. Within three days I had a fully active levain! Then I replicated the process to be sure it would work. It did.
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Sourdough, Arizmendi Bakery
I ran into someone I knew today. She was telling me about her son working in psychiatry with veterans and how the smaller women working in that setting were glad of this woman’s son – they feel protected because of his size. I didn’t have a good reaction to what she was saying, but didn’t understand why. I didn’t realize until just a few minutes ago that what this well-credentialed and uber-progressive person was saying about veterans with PTSD was that we’re dangerous, not to be trusted – haha (she was saying it with humor – it was amusing), they like having some muscle with them around the veterans. Hard to know what to say. I didn’t grasp it at the time, so went off on alternatives to the ineffective way PTSD is treated at the VA. But I get it now. I wonder how many shitty, racist or whatever things I’ve said and never even noticed…
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To Phana: You asked if I felt tired after spending the day with you getting chemotherapy. I said something like “a little” – but later I began to understand. I wrote,
What I really feel after here is not tired, but… something. I’m not sure what. Except that I’ve been somewhere of import with someone of great import. I don’t feel at all glad in any way, but I would rather be here, right here, right now – than anywhere else I can think of: The Wind Rivers, San Francisco, anywhere (except, of course, with Leslie).
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Our hotel was on this alley in Saigon, 2013
In the hall outside of the Chemotherapy Infusion Area I heard a man say, “I have a tough situation.” 
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The last time I played golf was about a month after I returned from the war in 1967. It had been several years, so I wasn’t playing well until I reached a hard par 4 hole going back toward the clubhouse. I hit a perfect tee shot – long and right up the middle. I tossed my driver over by my other clubs and walked off the course. It was a good set of clubs, but I just left them there. That was it for me.
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Now, several days later, sitting with Phana in an office in outpatient oncology, going over Advance Directives and Medical Power of Attorney, talking about how she is likely to pass, serious things.
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Things that help with happiness (from Greater Good in Action Center at UC Berkeley - http://ggia.berkeley.edu/ )
Three good things practice (every night) or gratitude journal
Mental subtraction of positive events
Savoring walk once a week vs. giving something up
Thank yous in word and deed; gratitude letter
Positives
Thursday
New Mexico, July 2015
BP close to normal.
John calls to say, when I’m having a late day, let him know and he’ll fix dinner.
Went to dermatologist who took such good care of Leslie. She was extra sweet and used the word, “adore.”
Messaged with friend I haven’t seen in about 20 years.
Friday
Ran into friend who is police officer. He called about 30 minutes later to say, “You’re one of my heroes.”
Flying to Albuquerque from DFW. Lucked into right terminal and close to right gate.
Parked free with Purple Heart license plates.
Read a good article about Robert Frank (photographer of The Americans)
I wrote this: I’m hopeful! I don’t know what for. It just seems like there is some future out there for me, some potential. I’m fearful. I fear further disconnection.

And there was the whole amazing scene with Jim and Elisabeth in New Mexico!


Saturday, May 25, 2013

Into the mystic


Kneading the dough
Take the F-Line down Market to downtown and BART to the Berkeley Rockridge Station. From the station walk a block or so up College and catch the 49B bus to Claremont and get off at the Star Market. Stop in at SemiFreddi’s Bakery for a cinnamon roll and then to the Star for bread (kalamata olive) and French roast coffee ($1 for large cup, which we split). Sitting at a table on the tree-covered sidewalk – huge trees all about, hills, flowers, homes, people walking, children, dogs…

Later I was thinking, how completely cool is it to be in Berkeley, to know our way around parts of it, to be here now on Claremont, here on Telegraph Avenue, here at Sproul Plaza, home of the Free Speech Movement, here in Cali.

Back in The City, lying in bed, sometimes we can hear a foghorn blowing, like when we walk from the end of the bus line at Land’s End, through flowers and the sea and sky.

Smell the sea and feel the sky,
Let your soul and spirit fly… into the mystic.
A few minutes walk from the end of the 38L bus line.


And when that fog horn blows, I will be coming home.
And when that fog horn blows, I want to hear it…
I don't have to fear it,
I want to rock your gypsy soul,
Just like way back in the days of old,
Then magnificently we will float into the mystic.
(Van Morrison)

Hangin’ on a corner in The Castro, watching all the pretty people passing by and these immortal words from Bob Dylan running through my mind: “Equality, I spoke the word as if a wedding vow." Not really thinking so much of the equality of marriage equality, but the equality of being free, the equality of being free to love openly, free to be real and happy, free To Be. San Francisco.

Here it comes, the F-line streetcar
Another day, F-Line to Haight and 71 up Haight to Golden Gate Park, around the park and get off (I think) at 9th. Walk along, Boom!, down a path to the Shakespeare Garden, understated, quiet, all period plants like sweet brier rose and old-timey daisies, gardener feeding the squirrels, baby girl chasing the squirrels, jaybird stealing the squirrel’s food, baby girl’s Mom, us. Sweet.

It’s not that we do all that much with David other than being together in the evenings. The main thing is just to be close. Kind of part of his and Charles’ life. Right now there is a 6 month old German shepherd, Jake, so there’s a lot going on with a big inquisitive and very young dog. David and I walked him every evening, so that was pretty grand. Thinking back on trips with David: Boston, Berkeley, Saigon, Hanoi, Hong Kong, Bangkok, Phnom Penh – good times, magical times.

Jake threw up one evening, so while David cleaned up the mess I read this story aloud to him and Leslie: Re-gifting is better than re-eating (12/26/2007): About 3:30am
Quote from Allen Ginsberg at bus stop
today Leslie was awakened by Buddy retching. She was too late to get him out of the house, so he threw up on the living room rug. What came up was mostly chunks of the bone he had eaten earlier (his Christmas bone), and by the time she got back to the living room with paper towels, etc., he was re-eating one of the chunks. So it's 3:30 in the morning and Leslie is wrestling with Buddy, trying to get the chunk of bone out of his great big, muscle-bunched pit bull mouth (thinking that if he ate it sooner or later she would see that little beauty yet again) all the while trying to not step in the barf. What a cute little doggie we have. Wait! Stop the Presses! The bone was Buddy's Christmas bone, so actually, he re-gifted and re-ate! 

Earlier I played After All This Time by Rodney Crowell. “After all this time, you’re always on my mind… I still want you.” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TyILPu0HSVA
From our front porch, early April 2013

When I die, nobody should feel sad on my account. If you’re one of the few who will really miss me, then sure, sad.

But here’s the thing: I’m fulfilled. Of course I would have liked more time. More time with Leslie and David, with you – and one more Asia trip, one more San Francisco trip, one more backpack, one more psy gathering, one more time to bake bread, and so on. But I have loved and been loved, lived my beliefs, had a happy home, had a beautiful son, had a grand partnership with Leslie, had many adventures, and so much more – really, it’s been amazing!  

Friday, September 2, 2011

Ice cream, David’s visit, more on birds

For David’s visit home I made some pistachio ice cream – cooked up a custard of cream, milk, egg yolks, sugar, vanilla and chilled it and then churned it with a lot of toasted pistachios (for a quart of ice cream

I used ~4 ounces of nuts). No fillers, no expanders, no anything other than just those perfect ingredients. AND, I made some bittersweet chocolate sauce (Callebaut), which I dipped the cones in and dipped that into chopped pistachios. I also put some of the (cooled) chocolate down into the cone and then froze the cones before I served them. This was the first real ice cream I’ve made, with a custard and all. It was the best ice cream I’ve ever had. Retirement!
David came home for the weekend and though he was out most of the time, it was still a good time. Chris just got home from

Afghanistan and we had a good lunch at Shirin’s – curry, Parsi potatoes, cilantro and onion relish, raita, samosas, etc. It’s always good to sit around the table at Shirin’s – as we have for the past 20+ years. Photo: Wren's nest at the front bathroom window. The babies stayed totally quiet the entire time except when a parent was coming in with food. Then there was a quiet little cheeping. After the babies flew, the parents never came back.
David’s job is going well – 26 years old, living in San Francisco, good job, good apartment – yes! His first publication is here. Good work DK!
I’ve added a few more bird photos. Leslie knew

something was up when the jays and crows started a hubbub. She was thinking a cat was in the yard, but when she looked out, there was the hawk. Yikes, a killing machine!