Chance = Change

      I do remember it was sunny, clear and the blue sky shone sweetly, giving the Magic Castle a clean and clear backdrop against which to look majestic and fanciful.  Eighteen of our nearest and dearest attended:

Paul and Stephen , Aunt Margie and Uncle Herman (now deceased), Cousin Miriam, Niece Rachel, Nancy Truitt, Pat and Charles Yonka, Bushia and Joe (Peter's grand folks), Eliza and Frank Ventura, Rick Rose and Amanda Aldridge, Carol Jones (Peter's "Aunt"), Richard and Barbara Baron.  Peter and I stayed at the Animal Kingdom Lodge, with a balcony overlooking the wild animal preserve. We could converse with giraffes and hippos at breakfast. It was thoroughly wonderful.  And we had a very good time with it all, and with everyone. A rehearsal dinner was thrown for us at the unique African restaurant in the Lodge the night before the wedding. Very exotic and delicious.  All guests received passes to the parks, and we had plenty of time to spend with each and every guest individually. It was a perfect two weeks, before we had to get back to work on the next Barter season. Peter was partially bald, because he had just played the Phantom in  Barter's Phantom of the Opera (the Maury Yeston one).  

      And now, seven short years later, we are residents of San Francisco, and are happier than we have ever been together. It has been textured, exciting, challenging, wonderful, awful, good bad, ugly, glorious, and very very right. Peter is an extraordinary man in every way, and so I can only conclude that I have done something wonderful in a former life to deserve such a fine, fair and good man - also sexy and beautiful to look at . He is devoted. Caring. Patient and , as I said, good.

      I woke up this morning wishing I was about to receive one of my Momma's phone calls.

      On every special day - birthdays, anniversaries, opening nights, holidays, it was Momma calling when the phone rang first thing in the morning. I knew it. Expected it. Was worried if it did not happen (it always eventually did).It was Momma calling. I knew her voice. I felt her love. It was her way of being part of my life : to be the first to call and not the specialness of those days. Her calls were as normal as breathing to me. It was part of who she was, and became part of me.  This morning I am missing my Momma.
     She once said the only thing she'd regret about dying is that she would miss what would be happening in my life. She adored being part of it all. And she would be having such wonderful fun with us here now in this great new city of ours.  She'd have two men who loved her here: my former spouse Paul -who always treated her like a Queen. She felt more betrayed than I did when Paul came out. But eventually she gave way to her love for him, and all was well, as time went on. After all, her husband was named Paul too!  And of course, Peter would be a total joy to her.   And she would love the city we are in - go into every one of its book stores - she would adore the water every where. THe hills would be a challenge, because she adored walking, but she would conquer them. She'd adore the culture here, the plentitude of Jews (her "people"), the smartness of this fine city. She would be glad we lived here. And we would be glad to have her with us. This is truly Momma's kind of city. She would have thriven here.
And I would have been able to receive her phone call. If she were only still alive and kicking. But she is not. And so, I must make due with warm memories of her. And her in my silent heart for all she gave to me.  I miss you , Momma.