5.6

Another birthday rolled around, climbing the life ladder.  In an effort to thank my mom for giving birth, I had her come up.  I’m glad I did, even though it was a tough week psychologically for me.  I was born up here, she was a Stewardess in the late 50’s out of SFO.  One of the things her crowd of pilots & stews used to do was sail the Bay.  She hadn’t sailed  here since I was born, so I thought a day of sailing to Sam’s in Tiberon where  I was born would be perfect.

It’s an hour flight from L.A., usually I wouldn’t let her hop on a plane by herself but I really figured an hour isn’t bad?  My friend drove her to the airport and for the first time in her whole life she missed her flight.  Memories of that woman in Seattle freaked me out, I was hoping she wouldn’t suffer the same fate.  She made it on the next flight no problem, disaster averted.

We set up the sail with my husband in Tiberon with a car just in case she got sick and couldn’t make it back.  My son and I sailed over with her, it was a perfect day!!  No wind in the morning, we motored over.  My husband met us at the dock at Sam’s, we got our lunch/latte in and she wanted to sail back with us.  Before we left, she stared at the restaurant for a long time wondering if she’d ever see it again?  Maybe just past memories of there and the time that’s gone by.  Legend has it that they brought me there after I was born, there’s a picture somewhere of Sam holding my thumb when I was a baby.  You can’t tell, it’s just someone holding my thumb that they said was Sam my whole life.

The sail back was perfect winds for a smooth sail back to the dock.  I was so glad to be able to finally take my mom out on the boat, her last sailing experience was coming back in the middle of the night from Catalina with no fuel, no wind after not being able to anchor properly (courtesy of my dad).  It’s one of the reasons I got fully certified for sailing, my dad isn’t the only one out there who had no idea what he was doing.  I’m all about making it from A to B in a reasonable amount of comfort.  That Catalina trip was in the mid-70’s, it was a traumatic experience for us all.  I did love the sailing part though, watching the jellyfish come up as I went up and down on the bow.  I don’t get sea sick, I could sit up on the bow the whole trip moving with the swells.

Before her flight out we went to breakfast downtown here and in the booth next to us was a man I recognized somewhat, couldn’t remember from where.  My mom started talking about my dad (That’s going to be an Oprah book of the month if I ever write it).  She dug in on her usual stuff, making me feel like shit and I just wanted to tell her to shut up.  One thing about my mom, it’s all about her.  Why my dad was even mentioned is beyond me??  They’ve been divorced forever… thank God!!  She feels it’s her right to bring it up and bring down the house.  It was then when I recognized the man in the booth, he was my therapist from about 20 years ago.  She went on & on while I said nothing just wondering if this man had recognized me and was listening?  Should I go back to him to get the rundown on the (one sided) conversation that was transpiring?

If he was listening and recognized me, I’m sure he was wondering how I turned out even remotely sane.

One positive thing she did say was about my math and spelling skills.  I’m pretty logical, like Spock on Star Trek.  Life is a big problem waiting to be solved.  So far, so good.

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