In June 2018, we embarked on a whirlwind road trip from Big Bear Lake to Napa Valley, so that Dan could attend a work event tied to NASCAR at the Sonoma Speedway.

I was mildly envious that Dan was going to have a VIP NASCAR experience, but I ended up having a grand adventure of my own. More on that in a minute…

We woke up early on a Friday morning and hit the road in our brand-new Hot Wheels 50th Anniversary Edition Camero. I’m happy to report that we made it to the Bay Area in record time and did not incur any speeding tickets in the process. A road trip miracle!

We drove without stopping until we hit Merced, California, where we stopped for a bathroom break at the “Welcome Center.” There are always signs for “Welcome Centers” throughout the state, but this was the first time that I had stopped at one. It is an information area with brochures for local attraction, which also serves as a bus station. The building was very empty, but most important, the bathrooms were immaculate!

Our first night, we stayed at an Embassy Suites in Sacramento. Dan has diamond status through Hilton, so we are fairly loyal to the brand. I like the Embassy Suites hotels, because the rooms are so spacious. Technically, we don’t need the space of a suite, but having a separate living room is nice. The breakfasts tend to be a notch-above other Hilton brands.

This particular stay provided amusement via a teenage beauty pageant that was being held in the atrium. We didn’t see the pageant, but we did see the contestants prepping. The table next to us at breakfast had a young teen girl sitting very rigid ( miss perfect posture), trying to hold a conversation with three elderly women, one of whom was clearly her grandmother. I couldn’t help but think that this young girl probably had a million other ways that she’d rather be spending her Saturday morning. As we were checking out, we spotted the reigning pageant winner wearing her tiara and sash while filming a YouTube video in front of the hotel’s Starbucks. It was all low-rent glamour and awkward.

Our destination was Napa Valley, although a very famous part of California, an area that I had not previously visited. We had no time for wine tasting or touring.It was a beautiful area, however, we did not stay long. We checked-in to our hotel to discover that the air-conditioning was broken. We enjoyed the pool, while engineering looked into it, but they could not fix the problem and the hotel was sold out. It was simply too hot in the room to stay, so we left.

Since Napa was jammed for NASCAR, the closest hotel that we could find was an Embassy Suites in Walnut Creek. It was under construction and some of the amenities were closed, but it was quite a nice hotel.

It was surreal being in Walnut Creek. I attended Mills College in Oakland in the late 90’s, but I spent a lot of time in the Walnut Creek/Antioch area visiting my then- boyfriend and his family. I had not been back to the Bay Area since 1997, yet many things were very familiar.

Staying in Walnut Creek was a hassle for Dan, who had to drive back to Napa for NASCAR, but it was actually great for me, as the hotel was located across the street from a BART train station. I had never taken the BART before, but I wasn’t about to miss the opportunity to visit San Francisco. Taking the BART was extremely easy and inexpensive.

Luck was on my side, as I called my high school friend, Bekah, to see if she could meet up and not only was she free, but she had an extra ticket to the afternoon Giants game at AT&T Park. Bekah lives a fair distance from San Francisco, so it really was kismet.

As soon as I got on the train, I realized that something special was going on. The train was packed with people heading to the Pride Parade in San Francisco. Pride Parades happen all over the world, but certainly San Francisco has one of the most famous events. As soon as I stepped off the BART, I was in the middle of the festivities. I even caught the float from my former employer: NBC-Universal.

I stepped out of the sweltering heat to grab an iced-latte at Starbucks. Starbucks also got in on supporting the love.

The Pride Parade was a cool thing to experience, lots of positive vibes. The only negative is it made it very difficult to find Bekah. It was so crowded that it was hard to connect. We finally made it and we walked down to AT&T Park for the afternoon game. We were handed pride flags as we walked down the street!

Bekah and her kids love baseball and attend Giants games whenever possible. I have a complicated relationship with baseball. When I was in kindergarten, I was picked to be an Honorary Dodger Bat Girl for “Glendale Night” at Dodger Stadium. I was given a uniform and I got to go on the field, pose with the players. I threw a ball around with Rick Monday and Steve Garvey.

I hated it.

I was very shy and nervous. It was not a good experience and then somehow, in third grade, I had to do it again. I begged my mom, but she forced me to do it. The crazy thing, is my mom was in the hospital for gallbladder surgery and didn’t even go to the game. I acknowledge that it was a special experience, but even in retrospect, I wish that they had picked a kid who wanted it. I didn’t even like baseball. I still don’t like baseball. The last Dodger game I attended, I brought a book to read. I go for the Dodger dogs!

Going to AT&T Park was 100% about catching up with a close friend and getting to know her lovely children. I had a blast! The best part was getting champagne in the beer garden. I have no idea who the Giants played against or who won the game, but the catching-up was priceless.

After the game, I caught the train back to Walnut Creek. Being in San Francisco made me realize how much I miss San Francisco. I’m not sure that I’d want to live in the Bay Area again, but I certainly would love to do a longer trip.

The next morning, Dan had a quick meeting in Silicon Valley, while I browsed at Ikea and then we began the long drive home.

February 4, 2018 is the tenth anniversary of when my mom passed away. A whole decade. It's hard to believe.

I didn't originally intend on holding on to it for ten years, but I kept a bottle of my mom's favorite perfume, Chanel #5. She wore it pretty much every day and it's the fragrance that I most associate with my mom. Honestly, it's not my favorite perfume. It's not something that I would wear. When mom died, my aunt actually took the bottle home, but she never opened it and when she died, I kept it, the box sealed, until this morning.

I unwrapped it and hesitated before smelling. Perfume goes off and this had been a decade. What if it soured? Or what if it simply didn't smell the way I remembered?

I sprinkled a few drops on my wrist and it smelled exactly how I remembered, rich and syrupy, with notes of flowers that I can't place. It smells like mom. I used to give her a bottle every year for her birthday and this one I gave to her just a few weeks before the cancer diagnoses, less than four months before she died.

When I was nineteen and at Mills College in Oakland, I drove to San Francisco and bought her birthday bottle at the Chanel boutique. It was wrapped in beautiful, Chanel paper and just felt extra special. Of course, this was the only time that I have been selected for a random screening at the airport and security had to unwrap the present to check it. Luckily, a kind security officer found scotch tape and rewrapped it for me. I should note that this was before 9/11, when security was less intense.

The months between the diagnoses and when she passed were, by far, the worst of my life. I could barely keep it together, but now when I think back on that time, my bad memories are mostly eclipsed by remembering the kindness people showed me. I was so lucky to be working for great managers at Universal, who were flexible with my need for time off to take care of my mom. I never felt stressed about having to miss work. I had friends checking on me every day, calling, sending notes and visiting. None of it went unnoticed or has been forgotten.

One really special package came from my friend Amy, whom I've never met in person, but befriend through our mutual love of books via Bookcrossing. Amy heard that we had to cancel a pedicure appointment because my mom was too sick. and she sent us a home pedicure kit. I was blown away. It was one of the most thoughtful things anyone has ever done for me.

I remember specific details about those months. I remember the last meal I had with my mom before we got her diagnosis; she met me at Universal City Walk for lunch at Tony Romas. The main reason was to give me some hand warmers that she had bought for me to take on my fall trip to Connecticut. I remember going to Starbucks after leaving the doctor's office, when we knew, but she didn't want to talk about it. We drank iced lattes and tried to pretend that everything was normal, but it wasn't.

A few weeks before she died, when she was in the hospital, I made an unfortunate outfit choice and she picked on me. She made me laugh. I had purchased these rain boots with multi-colored hearts all over them and decided to wear a denim mini-skirt, pink sweater, pink tights, and these boots. I thought it was cheerful and I needed cheerful. She thought it was garish and horrible. She was right. She was too tired, too weak to read in the hospital, so I read aloud non-fiction humor books by David Sedaris and Laurie Notaro. Which also made us laugh.

I had a reunion with my childhood friend, Karin, who worked as a breathing specialist and stopped by to give mom treatments. My mom knew her too, so this seemed like an extra blessing.

I don't remember the last conversation that I had with her. I've tried so hard to recall it, but it's just not there. She was awake when I went to dinner with her best friend, Nancy, on the evening of Friday, February 1st. We left the hospital not realizing that it was the last time we would talk with her. We had dinner at Dinah's Chicken and went back to the hospital.

I slept three nights in the hospital, only leaving that weekend to go home and take a quick shower, grab supplies. There was a couch that made into a bed in her room and the nurses were wonderful, checking to make sure that I was doing okay too. Nancy stayed with me and my aunt came down from Tustin. I didn't sleep much and I was too tired to read. I remember spending a majority of the time planning Julie's baby shower, that I was co-throwing with Fanny. I was looking up Martha Stewart-esque party ideas, as my mom's breathing became increasingly shallow and the "death rattle" came.

She passed away on Monday morning. I'm not sure when she actually died, there wasn't anything monitoring her. No flat-line. I remember looking at Nancy and saying that something felt different. I went over to mom and she was absolutely still. I used the intercom to call the nurse and as we waited for the nurse to come, I told my mom that I loved her.

My aunt, who had been sleeping at my mom's house ( ten min away) showed up before the doctor had finished. She felt terrible for not having spent the night with us and it hurts me to think that she carried that burden with her. I know she did.

I remember funny things about that morning. We waited in the hallway, while the nurses dealt with mom's body. When I went back in the room to get my stuff, I couldn't look at her body. I felt repulsed. It was no longer her. I didn't want to be with my aunt or Nancy. I should have stayed with them, they were hurting too, but I just wanted to go back to my apartment in Pasadena. It was a sunny morning and my eyes hurt when I drove home. I didn't have sunglasses. Divorce was inevitable and I pushed my husband away when he tried to console me. I didn't want him at the hospital and I told him to stay at work that morning. To be fair, he tried. I know he cared for my mom and felt hurt too, but I didn't want him as part of my hurt.

I got home and cuddled with my cat, Nicolette, on my bed. I was so tired. Too tired to sleep. Whole body tired. I also felt overwhelming relieved that it was over. Mom had suffered so much in just a few months and the not knowing how much worse it might get, made me suffer too. I felt relieved. Julie called me. She had found out through her parents, who found out through my aunt. She wanted to leave work to come be with me, but I said it was okay. The following weekend she treated me to a day at Burke Williams, where we got massages and took fancy baths in tubs that were side-by-side. They put cucumbers on our eyelids and then gave us a bowl of fruit to eat while in the tub. We started cracking up, because it wasn't so easy to eat fruit with vegetables on our eyelids!

Less than an hour after going home, I got a call regarding organ donation. Mom was an organ donor, but I was shocked with her emaciated, cancer-ridden body, that anything could be of use. It turns out they could use her corneas and I spent an hour on the phone answering medical questions. Mom was organized and she had created a medical folder with her complete medical history, including everything regarding her cancer. I started laughing on the phone, which surprised the medical guy, but I told him that my mom would have been so happy to know that her organization skills were paying off! I could easily answer all of his questions by using the binder. I know she would have been happy.

Fanny came over to be with me. We made yogurt parfaits and sat chatting in my living room. She shared news with me, some of the happiest, most important news that anyone has ever shared with me- she was pregnant! The baby, Rachel, came the following September and she is very special to me. I love being a step-mom to Zoe and Felix, and "Auntie Karen" to all of my friend's kids. I have a lot of kids to love in my life. But I have to say, that Rachel is extra special in my heart and part of that is because I learned about her on that morning. It was the happy news that I needed to hear. Mom would have loved her too.

Mom was a volunteer with the Glendale Police Department and they wanted to help with her Celebration of Life. It ended up being a bit of a big deal. We rented the banquet room at the Elks Lodge and hundreds of people showed up. The chief of police came and so did the police dogs. My mom helped raise money for the police dog program and became close to those officers, K-9 and human. They even got special permission to bring a dog into the hospital the week before she died. This is the last picture I have of my mom. I don't like thinking of her this way, so sick, but I know that she was happy that they bought one of the dogs to visit. It was a really special moment.

We didn't have an actual funeral. Mom had made arrangements for a cremation and burial plot for herself, back when my dad died in the early 80's. Forest Lawn was actually rather shitty to deal with and it just seemed ridiculous to pay thousands of dollars extra to schedule a time to watch her urn be placed in her slot. I declined. I actually went back to work on the day she was supposed to be interred. It was Valentine's Day.

Valentine's Day is my favorite holiday. Even with mom having just died and my marriage falling apart, I was still happy for Valentine's Day. I received multiple flowers from colleagues ( for my mom, not Valentine's Day- That would have been weird) and I had a really great first day back at work. Life was moving on.

I was worried that this tenth anniversary would be horrible, but then I realized something about the date that shifted my thinking. The tenth anniversary of my mom's death, falls on Super Bowl Sunday! Super Bowl Sunday is a magical day of the year. I don't care about football, although my mom did. Super Bowl Sunday is magical, because everything else is empty. It's the best day of the year to do just about anything. I'm hoping, that in honor of my mom, who loved movies, that we will go to a theater and bask in the emptiness of the cinema. I'm really not sure what we will do, but I'm considering it a gift that the tenth anniversary is also on the most magical day of the year. What ever we do, I will be thinking about my mom, missing her and celebrating her by doing something that she would have loved.

I might even splash on a bit of Chanel No. 5.

Summer 2018: Bay Area Road Trip

Ten Years