Prom Photo

After much prodding, tonight Dylan shared a photo of his prom night and his date, Izzy. We celebrated his graduation tonight with a party and about 30 old friends. Everyone loves Dylan and it's easy to see why. He's a very smart and funny young man, who is gentle and kind to everyone. He has lots of ideas and interests. He gives great hugs.

As I watched all of the Moms and Dad and friends come over to congratulate him tonight, hug him and hand him envelopes with cards and checks, the emotions were so palpably genuine that I know he knows that people see him for who he is and love him exactly for being such an unusual character in our lives.

There's nothing phony about this young man. I don't know the girl in the photo, Izzy, but she has very good taste, IMHO, is choosing her prom date.

Dylan is now trying to decide between his two remaining college options -- Santa Barbara Community College and the University of Montana.

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Graduation Day

Congratulations, Dylan! Class of 2014 Lowell High School.

What an emotional day it is to witness your child reach this kind of milestone. This is my fifth high school graduation: Laila at Lowell, Sarah at Redwood, Peter at Redwood, Aidan last year at Balboa, and Dylan tonight at Lowell. Still to come: Julia in three years, presumably at Gateway, where she is wrapping up her freshman year.

I admit that I cried in the darkened auditorium in the early part of the ceremony, but I do not believe anyone noticed. I'm sure other parents did too.

Four years ago, this brilliant young son of mine was so excited when he got admitted to Lowell, which is a merit school, rated as one of the ten best in the world (according to its principal.)

The academic experience for him was clearly mixed. But socially he thrived, making good friends and going to lots of parties.

The odd part of all that is if you would have asked me I would have predicted the academics would have turned him on, and the social part might have been challenging.

But parents never truly know their children's realities; we just glimpse what is shared with us.

One thing I truly appreciate about Dylan, as I watched him walk up there on stage tonight in his cap and gown and old tennis shoes, is the conversations we have always been able to have. He shares his life with me, his thoughts and feelings.

Much of the past few years, these conversations have included his reasons for not trying to do well in class, a kind of intellectual rebellion I've had trouble arguing against, even though I knew he was limiting his college options in the process.

His test scores remain so very high. He reads constantly. He has ideas about everything. But he only has a couple of college options and he is not sure how to choose.

We'll figure this out together. For tonight I am just glad high school is over for him, and as his lovely smile in the photos shows, so is he.

On to his future!

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Memories in the Wind

At the back of my apartment there are a series of three windows. The big ones let you see out and let you see in. They are in the laundry room. The little one is clouded, if that is the right word, in other words you cannot see in or out.

It is in my bathroom.

Against that clouded window, branches pass. Sometimes they seem to caress the glass, much like a finger against a naked body.

There are two types of branches that can reach this window, one from an apple tree and the other from a bamboo plant.

I think of them, given my experience, as warring women -- my American lovers and my Asian lovers. As they blow in the wind, making their case, I remember each and every one of the women I have loved. Each was beautiful and now their surrogates brush across my cloudy window.

Suddenly I open the window up and all becomes clear.

None of you are here. All that is left for me is my imagination and my memory.

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