Whole latte nothin' goin' on

Hey kids,

Well, squandering my weekend of cleaning and de-cluttering by resolutely NOT cleaning and de-cluttering. Slept in 'til 10:30 am, then -- my only nod today to anti-hoarding -- I picked five things out of my closet and took them to the donation bin and dropped off another one of your strollers at the thrift store. The orange $150 two-kid stroller that we maybe used half a dozen times cuz Jakob refused to sit in it.

Kept right on driving and wound up in Reno, where the Traveling Vietnam Memorial Wall is on display this week.



I held it together rather well. That is, until someone next to me murmured, "All these names. All this death. And for what?" Then I lost it and had to head out across the field as far away as I could get, to collect myself and rein in the tears.



The same thing happened to me, a thousandfold, at the original Vietnam Memorial in Washington 25 years ago, during a trip with the high school band. We toured all the regular tourist attractions that school trips normally tour. I had been looking forward to seeing the Vietnam Memorial for a while, because at that time it was rather new, and I had closely followed its progress in the news, from its controversial concept to its installation. The band toured that particular part of DC at night, and the mall and the memorials were all dramatically lit and beautiful.

When we made our way to the Vietnam Memorial, I was tense, probably from anticipation, but once I started making my way from one end of the wall towards the other, I became overwhelmed, by the enormous weight of the thousands and thousands of names before me, but mostly with the thought that my birth father must be on this wall somewhere, but I didn't even know his name. I became hysterical, and had to be carried back to the tour bus by parent chaperones.

When everyone else finally got on the bus and we took off for our hotel, I watched the bus's progress closely from the window, memorizing the route, because I was planning to return the next day on my own.

The next day, when everyone else went to the Air and Space Museum and other Smithsonian museums (I still regret that I missed that, and plan to return someday to finally see them), I snuck away and made my way back to the Vietnam Memorial. I honestly can't remember how I got there and back. I must have walked, because I don't remember taking a bus or a cab. And I know I didn't tell anyone except maybe my closest friend on the trip, but I do know that I was by myself. I spent a good part of the day there, walking up and down the wall, looking at all the names, which weren't quite as overwhelming in the daylight. I found a "Kelly Davis" and made a rubbing with pencil and paper, which I have managed to lose in the intervening years. I took pictures, explored the other nearby monuments, I think I even grabbed lunch somewhere, all before I somehow made my way back to the hotel.

What a little adventurer I used to be.



So anyway. Yesterday. I finally got ahold of myself and walked back to the wall, made my peace with it and left. You should know, kids, that your Papa did his part back in Vietnam, before I was ever born, and he was lucky to make it home. But 58,196 Americans were not so lucky, and we memorialize them by carving their names on that wall. I'll take you someday and show you.



The traveling memorial is installed at Rancho San Rafael Park, which is a beautiful place. Had lunch and read for a while at the very peaceful Labyrinth Garden:



Then, since no one was around to make me feel silly or self-conscious, I walked the Labyrinth, winding back and forth...



...until I finally made it to the middle:



You're supposed to spend a contemplative few moments when you reach the middle, maybe have an epiphany or two before re-tracing your steps and leaving. Well, I didn't have an epiphany, and I didn't re-trace my steps. I just galumphed back across all the lines and probably did irreparable harm to my kosmic karma.

Capped off my afternoon with a leisurely hour or so on the patio at the local Sbux, finishing up "The Perfect Storm," then followed up afterwards with a mile and a half power-walk around Lampe Park.



Today, Sunday, was a bit more mellow. Met with a friend and saw a community college production of "Footloose," then came home and cleaned up your room. Finally. De-cluttered a whole yard-sized garbage bag-full of broken toys, "paper goods" and other miscellaneous crap. And found all the spoons. Wavy's been hoarding all our spoons for some reason; there were hardly any left in the silverware drawer.

Which brings us to now. Back to work tomorrow. Boo. Hiss. But it's a short week. Will see you Thursday night! Love you and miss you. Sleep tight.