In the Golden Gate lot, I took this shot, but it wouldn’t do.
So I headed up into the headlands, toward the old coastal gun batteries, and got an amazing view of the bridge, the bay, the city. I set up my tripod for the shot, but it was in the road. Not going to work. Then a girl in biking gear got out of her black VW Jetta and snapped this pic for me.
Kelly, it’s for you. It was time to head to Santa Rosa, to the birthday event, but I decided to take in this dramatic view a few minutes longer…and called my mom for an update on my dad. It was not a good day for him.
Exhaustion, body pain had kept him in bed again. West Nile made food taste bad, so he wasn’t eating. That made him weak so he wasn’t exercising. Bad deal. I was pissed. Even if I only got an hour with him, he’d know how I felt. He had to recover, get back to his energized self again. And then there was the ski trips. He had taken me since I was 3, and I was not yet ready to give those up. I hoped he wasn’t ready either. All this brought on by a stupid little mosquito bite…how ridiculous. The 13th one in the county. Lucky 13. Lucky I guess it wasn’t another TIA mini-stroke for him. Then it could have been it. Heck, this could have been it. He’d hear my two cents about his recovery even if he only had 2 minutes. Sometimes you just need someone to kick your ass into gear. He’d done it to me before. I planned on returning the favor.
I arrived at Summer’s house in Santa Rosa, expecting a relaxing birthday party, but Matt and Sunday had done it up for her 30th with catering, music, a tarot card reader, and tons of guests…all of whom wanted to see the Solstice, talk about cars, so why not? Right, Sunday didn’t, as she was playing cupid with Summer (pictured below in a black jacket) and I. The two of us laughed. We were 400 miles apart. But the more we talked the more we got along, the more we thought…. Okay, 400 miles is really far. Too far.
Two guys at the party, an attorney and a civil engineer, both beer brewers had made 40 gallons of the good stuff, and it was outstanding. I drank two tall glasses. One for me, one for my dad.
Now how much wine I drank, I have no idea. Summer’s dad is a vineyard manager and had brought in cases of Cab, Merlot, and Zin. I drank glass after glass with him, but in the end, couldn’t keep pace. It was HIS wine after all. Then out came the cake with its thick dark frosting. Dark as the night sky, which I’d later sleep under, the silence giving me better rest than in recent memory.
It was now Sunday, and time to visit my dad.
Continued in Part 4/4
Josh Kameyer, Broadband Video Production
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