Our Weekend

Yesterday, my youngest child's team lost a heart-breaking soccer game, 0-1 in the final minute of play. Her team is in last place, winless, and they were playing the first place team. Nevertheless, the game stayed scoreless until that minute. Then, as one her teammates tried to clear the ball from their zone, she inadvertently sent it straight into Julia's shoulder, where the ball then bounced into their own net, creating a goal for the opposition.

A minute later the game was whistled over.

That is a defender's greatest nightmare, and I knew Julia was devastated as she walked off the pitch, holding her face down and her hand over her eyes. As I reached her and we hugged she started crying.

Soon, her teammates gathered around her and took over the hugs. Everyone knew it wasn't her fault. Luckily she did too.

As her mood improved, she smiled and told me, "I don't know why I cried. I think I was just angry. A girl on the other team cheered in an ugly way when they got that goal."

This is, of course, what I love about sports for girls. They get to experience these difficult things, which will prove useful as they mature and move forward into a professional world still unfairly dominated by men.

On our way home she and I stopped at a store where she got a treat.

***

Today, her brother and former coach, the guy who really taught her how to be a defender on the pitch, was lost in his own world, drawing (photo above). His art, which I have posted here, is strangely detailed and exotic. He continues to work on a big piece. As he does so, none of us can even get him to respond to our inquiries. He seems lost in the patterns.

I'm not quite sure what is going on with him. I worry sometimes.

Meenwhile, my youngest son and I today worked on his college applications. I was surprised that, despite his lackluster approach to classes, he has a 3.0 GPA at Lowell, very high SAT scores and impressive AP test scores. Maybe he can get into a good college, after all.

His essays focused on his work at St. Anthony's dining hall, where for months now he has been a volunteer feeding homeless people and mentally ill people. He describes himself as a cynic, not an idealist, but someone who believes the best any of us can do is help improve the world one life at a time...

Congratulations to my special nephew Andrew on his wedding in Atlanta this weekend. I wish we all could have been there with you!

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Happy Birthday Baby Girl

My youngest is 15. We had a lovely early dinner at one of her favorite restaurants, Sunflower. I drove there from Raul's bedside. Sitting with a dying friend younger than his years (67) and then sitting next to a beautiful child older than her years (who still calls me Daddy) is a very strange experience. Raul and Julia don't know each other at all. I am their only glue so only I can tell their mutual stories. In many ways they are similar people. Individuals with huge hearts, brave people who think far beyond themselves. They are two people with big eyes, eyes that see and feel and make you feel seen and heard. I hope somehow I get the chance to introduce them before Raul dies. 

 Here is a lovely photo of Raul and his partner Tony, now married!

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Horrible Nights, Wonderful Nights

As I try to accept my dear friend Raul's impending death, I also celebrate my youngest child's struggle as an (almost) 15-year-old girl in high school. Her birthday is Sunday. Not to mention my youngest grandson's second birthday, today. Happy Birthday, Oliver! (far left, in his birthday suit)

Julia is upstairs at this hour, babysitting a little guy called Elliot, not yet one year old.

Life celebrates life. Our babies grow up and take care of other babies.

Our dearest friends pass away, one by one. And we cry. It is an essential part of living that we understand our dying.

I am an old man now. I have been losing friends for years and I know I will lose many more if I live long enough to hear the news. One by one we are all going away. On some sweet day not that long from now, my friends and family will also lose me. And then my voice will become silent, so for now I know I need to keep posting. These messages matter.

My heart is so heavy tonight, because I (selfishly) do not want to lose Raul. He is one of the very few who has been there for me when it really mattered. He loves me and I love him. He is a great man, a wonderful human being, and also a gay Cuban immigrant from a dysfunctional family, a great journalist, a kind person with a heart bigger than anyone else I have ever known.

I do not want to let him go. And I also know that I must.

As we all say goodbye to one another

I had the honor to spend yesterday and last night with my old and dear friend Raul Ramirez, who is dying of cancer. He had requested that I come to the rehab facility where he has been the past few weeks. He had been getting stronger and feeling better after a brutal month of setbacks, and felt well enough for a visit. It was supposed to be a happy visit. But before I got there he got some troubling news -- a CT scan had identified an arterial aneurysm in his abdomen. He was urgently taken by ambulance to the ER at Kaiser in Oakland, where surgery would be considered. I went there as well with two of his other friends, plus Tony, his partner. (They were married last weekend.)
There, the doctors told us that the situation is dire and that there is nothing further they can do for Raul, surgery is too dangerous, plus the combination of problems he has now are too complex to be solved by any kind of medical intervention whatsoever. All they can do now is mitigate the pain.
As fast as possible we are now trying to arrange hospice care. Raul desperately wants to return to his home and die there. Today I signed as a witness to his will, we discussed his wishes for cremation, he instructed that he is not to be resuscitated once his heart stops and many other similar topics.

Then, something kind of wonderful happened and this is so Raul. We decided to have a little party. I had brought over some fruits and cheese -- a nurse brought some crackers and juice and there in the Kaiser ER we had a picnic. Raul was very much the life of the party. We all laughed (and cried) and ate the snacks. All I can say is Raul really loves strawberries!

At this point, it will be day to day. I am on call to go there whenever Tony or others request. I know he would love to hear from any of you through whatever channel you choose. When he feels well enough he checks email. He even takes phone calls. He opens cards. He listens when friends relay messages. He is very frustrated and angry and sad and I think also still somewhat scared but he also seems strong and resolved to handle this his way. He refuses pain medications so his mental acuity is intact. He is in terrible pain and so thin it is hard to see but his mind is active, playful and inquiring. He's really still the same Raul we've all always loved so much.

Family Gathering

A week ago.

Today

I think these pictures tell the story. My youngest and I were up very early since she had a game at the Crocker Amazon pitch. She played well, on her injured ankle. Before the game, her coach taped her swollen, bruised ankle. During the game, she played great defense.

She is a big, strong girl, still learning how to use that to her advantage. Thanks to all the practices she goes to, she is also well-conditioned, so now we all notice how fast she is in the spurts that all defenders have to be in order to play their part.

Julia and her teammates are true competitors. Their team has zero wins and six losses. They have been outscored 2-28. Nothing about this is pretty. It's all ugly. Except for this: She and her teammates  play hard the whole time.

I am so proud of youngest (and last) athlete.
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As the sun set tonight over the Pacific

I was watching.