Last weekend our daughter and three-year-old granddaughter, both of whom had been living with us for the past year and a half, moved into a place of their own.

It’s so quiet around our house now.

I virtually never miss people, and I’m not particularly a dog person, but when they moved out, they took with them Oscar, their eleven-year-old dog.

I’ve never told this to a soul, but I used to have imaginary conversations with Oscar, largely around that fact that there we were two older guys just enjoying our final days together.  I like to believe he understood.  Isn’t that what life is about – connection?  Our connection to the world, to each other, to our homes, and our pets.

Last year one of my sons said to me, “You know, Dad, if we continue to see each other once a month over the next 15 years that will be about 200 visits for the rest of our lives.”

Whoa!  But ultimately, those are the limitations we all face.

This is the best reason to make the most of each and every day, because the number of days we each have is finite.

After all, if we’re lucky enough to live for 100 years, we still only have 36,500 days to spend together, to love and be loved – and to make the most of our time.

Good bye Oscar. I’ll miss our chats.

Alan

When I was a high school senior, I was the captain of the debate squad.  One afternoon, a fellow student showed up in the speech teacher’s classroom. She wanted to compete in a speech tournament, so I took her under my wing. I helped her prepare for the Oratorical Interpretation event at a novice tournament.  As I recall, she did quite well.

Was I motivated to help her because she was attractive? Most likely. We began dating soon after. How could I resist?  Making out with her in the evening was a lot more fun than studying.

Eventually I invited her to a family dinner at my home. Most families have their own unique customs and behaviors: things they do and say that might seem strange to an outsider but feel perfectly normal to members of the family. If I was to sit down with you at one of your family dinners, I suspect you would provide paper (or linen) napkins. So, you might be surprised to learn that when I was growing up – I knew nothing about napkins. At my family dinners we used a single dish towel that was passed around the table. We were family. That’s what we did, we wiped our lips on a communal towel.

You will not be surprised to learn that she was surprised (I might even say “disgusted”, though I never asked her).  But I’m pleased to tell you that she passed that trial by dish towel without flinching. I can also share that there had been other women who saw that dishtowel being passed around and ran for the hills.

The happy ending?  And it was — when we graduated from high school we were married, and though we are no longer together, we have three lovely adult children. Sometimes, you just have to look past the quirky habit to see the charm that lies beneath.

At our wedding we used linen napkins. And our children did not grow up sharing a dishtowel.

Alan

As you no doubt already know, the Los Angeles area has been on fire for the past week.

I was born here in 1940, so I still remember the light blanket of snow that covered the city on a Saturday in the early 1950’s.  I know for sure it was a Saturday because instead of playing in the snow, my parents made me attend a piano lesson scheduled for that day.

Last week, when I walked into my kitchen, I saw a plastic container filled with water.  Inside was a good-sized turtle, one foot in diameter.  Apparently, someone in the family thought that our kitchen was the safest place for their turtle to ride out the fire.

I’ll admit that it was exciting to watch the fire burn to within a few miles of our home. I say “exciting” when I probably should say “scary.”  But tragic events and disasters can heighten our awareness of everything around us because high-risk situations raise the existential stakes.  One of my sons lives near Pacific Palisades.  Fortunately, the Santa Monica Fire Department positioned their equipment directly in front of his house, so it was protected, but a number of his friends did not have houses to go back to.

Which brings me to “things”.  I’ve always told my children to value people, which cannot be replaced.  “Things” can be repaired or replaced.  As it turns out both of my sons had to temporarily abandon their homes.  But their families are fine.

I’m an avid follower of the news. In this case, however, I live only a few miles from the tragedy unfolding.  I am very grateful that my family members are all safe and terribly sorry for all those who have been more directly impacted by the fires.

Last weekend the wind practically threw my back against my front door. But I’m hopeful that the wind will die down, the fires will be brought under control, and once again, I’ll be able to take a walk around the block.

In the meantime, I now have a turtle for company.

Alan