The Breeze From Trabuco Canyon
Yesterday was a very full day! We never got out of our pajamas! Cameron went to work, and Rosie and I welcomed a parade of their friends all day. She has collected a very warm, loving family of friends who have been following our adventures on the blog and were excited to meet me.
Because our writing is so similar, Desiree and her son, Roman, joked that, perhaps, Rosie had made me up. They thought she might answer the door wearing a curly wig. I enjoyed their visit very much. Desiree has two very intelligent sons. She has much to be proud of.
Other folks from her religious community, braved the unanticipated
thunderstorm to knock on the door to get a look at Rosie’s Dad.
It was pouring! I was amazed at the ferocity of the rainfall and the lightning and thunder. It felt like the Hudson Valley, rather than Southern California. It rained for most of the day. The thunder set off car alarms.
I had been surprised by the sound of all of the frogs, the night I arrived, because it seemed so dry, but it’s not so dry now!
There was a big fire near here and the vegetation has not yet come back, so it is susceptible to erosion. Apparently, a biker bar down the canyon was filled with three feet of mud.
I saw on the news that there is a large fire in Santa Cruz, where many people I know would be affected. My thoughts went out to them. I would be helping, if I were there, but I am where I need to be.
Rosie and I are savoring this visit. She has been making me a scrapbook of photos and memorabilia. Her certificates for winning essay contests in High School make me honored to have our writing called similar. She has been a good writer for a long time.
She gave me photos from her modeling portfolio. They are stunning! I remembered that my mother had been a model, also.
The photos of her as a young girl bring waves of what might have been. I do wish I could have been in her life, but that’s not the way the story was to be written. This is such an opportunity for joy that it seems a waste to spend time in the sorrow of what might have been. As the song said, “Lives that might have been, are only lives that never were.”
This story is being written each new day, each new moment. It has been energizing to realize how much joy and hope Rosie’s finding me gives others. I told Rosie that I felt that our story was about hope. It shows that, even when you have let go of the possibility of ever finding completion . . . resolution, it can appear from out of nowhere, in a way that is absolutely perfect.
Today, we have tentative plans to meet with my Aunt Lottie and maybe my cousin, Janelle. I haven’t seen them since my wedding and am excited for Rosie to meet them. I think that Brandon, Victoria’s son, is down here somewhere too. Cameron may be able to join up with us, as well.
Last night, Cameron shared the Monty Python skit about the Italian class, taught by the Brit, in which the students were Italian. I shared the Food Court Musical. I showed Rosie the video about Joe Hemphill, the writer in Fresno that Cindy and I are working with.
I am careful not to pretend to write about everyone I meet, I would never be able to keep up. I wouldn’t want to leave anyone out and have them think that they were not memorable, or significant. Please know that I am honored to have you include me in your lives and I am grateful for all that you have given my Rosie.
