Last of it.

I met three of Laura's friends, each different, but all interesting. Laura also took me to Berkley, a session of meditation, and to various intriguing stores. There was also a concert where I heard play the 'Red Violin.' I was pleasantly surprised at freedom that Gays and Lesbians had in expressing themselves publicly. There were street performers that we listened to. Later in the week, we went to San Francisco where Laura works an attendant to handicapped woman who could move nothing but her body and head. At first, I was embarrassed, and wasn't sure what would be rude or not. So I played with her 3-month puppy (a yellow lab) and won over the owner by the acceptance of the puppy for me. The puppy even brought me toys to play with. I needed to see her, she had no self-pity for her condition and had a life that was full and productive -- by choice and hard work. (I don't give more details about the handicapped woman than this to preserve her privacy.) If I ever get to this point (and I still could if my nerve degeneration comes back), I see that I don't have to let it keep me from a life of my own design. Nor do I need to wallow in self pity of any length. She invited me back as we did not have a long time to get to know each other. Laura told me that this was a compliment as her employer was a very private person and does not invite everyone back. We also did the touristy thing and rode the over-crowded trolleys down to the heart of San Francisco where we got accosted by three separate pan-handlers in three separate events. One we managed to stump when we gave him our left-over salad from our dinner instead of the money hand-out that he had asked for.

The last part is the hardest. On the last day I was to be there, (which turned out to be the next to the last since the plane I was to take was canceled due to weather in Denver--we used it to visit the Mystery House in San Jose, and slept the rest of the day and night. A perfect way to rest for the very tiring journey home.) Dinner with Laura's parent was arranged. I had been dreading it the entire visit, yet Laura made it easier for me by telling me that her mother had some guilt for adopting her children, for taking them away from their mothers, that it was important for them to know that we (I) thought they had done a good job. I had not thought of it from that viewpoint, only that Laura's mother would judge me for not going back to school and becoming a doctor like I had originally wanted. That I had not become a 'pull-my-self-up-by-my-own-bootstraps' person that I had first shown promise to being.

Yet, I do not consider myself a failure; my family is out of debt, my husband and I have a good marriage, my children are in my life and we have enough income that I don't have to work and hence can stay home and do all this fancy research and writing. That I have the freedom and the money to pursue this passion with the full support of my family. I only feared that SHE would see me so. Because I had not graduated from college, nor gone on to some profession that paid well.

At the dinner, it was at first awkward, and stiff but when it gradually loosen up. And I found a place to tell them that I thought that they had done a good job of raising Laura. I was surprised to see both of her parents visibly relax at the same moment as I spoke, I had not expected to see them as tense about the meeting as I had been. Then, it was over. Both the visit and the dinner. I haven't related everything that happened, to retain privacy for the people involved, and because of the sheer volume of the experiences. Her parents spoke of my coming back, as a matter of fact, Laura's friends did as well. But more important than all of that, my daughter invited me back, back into her life and into her space. We love each other, more than friends, less than parent and child. Still, it is more than enough for the both of us.