between earth and air: notes to mom and dad from our vegas flight to oz.

Dear Mom and Dad:

First time I have written to you together, from up here. Greetings from seat 20D. I am sitting next to Danna. First sister trip in much too long. She is taking me to see The Wizard of Oz at the Sphere in Vegas. Bigger than a big screen. More surround sound than all that. Immersive and interactive. Someone said I should take Dramamine. (Oy!). Never good in the backseat on the Garden State but cool on a rollercoaster. Hoping I am ok without. Heard apples fall and the tornado comes through. Remember watching it when I was little, sitting between you two. Jiffy Pop on my lap.

Yep. It's for my birthday. Sixty. WTF. That means, what the fuck. I think you know. Not sure. I think you would both be tickled by all the emojis and shorthand we use on text. Dad was really up on it till he wasn't. Fuck ALZ.

I hope this note finds you well? Hope it finds you. And that you have found one another! Oh, what I wouldn't give to be celebrating with you both.

Remember the parties at 41 Robin Court? Covering the pool table with a big piece of basement panel? Make up spread all over with scraps for costume making. Some years we decorated ourselves, other years pumpkins. The friends loved it, some still have photos they share with me to this day.

Mom, I wish I knew the name of the bakery that dyed the bread orange and black. Those tea sandwiches were a brilliant little work of art. We have rainbow bagels now. Dad really loved those. Bet you would have chosen those for all the grandkids, Mom.

In true Jersey girl fashion, we have rented the local movie theater in Bedford for a friends get together on 10/29 to see the new Springsteen movie. Bruuuuuuuce.  Still a fan. Always a fan. Of him and our sweet petite peninsula. Still gets a bad rap and joked about, but we know better.

So many candles this go round. Hard to believe. Not sure if I thought I would make it past 50. It hung there wrapped in anxious planning for my own early demise. Wills and "for you when I am gone" letters and files. Trying to impart lessons you left. And those I added. Memory making on steroids

I made it. Ten years more. And hopeful for at least the 26 more that you got, Dad. When I am forgetful, it is hard to know if it's grief brain, Alzheimer's or menopause. We have the tests to know if I carry the gene, but it's a hard pass for me. Danna and Al and the kids know my wishes. And what signs to look for...

In this year of firsts without you, Dad, I can't help but compare the grief. Of course losing at 27 vs 59 has been wholly different. I am so glad you knew the kids on this side. I am sure Mom had been visiting all the grands from afar. They know it too.

Never getting to say goodbye to Mom will never be right. Though living through those long years of goodbye with Dad, was griefy as hell.

I am sure you both know about The Memory Circle. Dad knew in the good old days. And what I know through mediums, you've been on board from the start too, Mom.

I love this work that I get to do. A third act.  Final act? Of course writing will always be at the root. In fact, I will likely post this on my new newsletter, Permission Granted.

Before I tell the others, let me tell you first. I signed with a new literary agent. It's time for the grief book. Will share the details as we pitch the proposal. I am hopeful it will be the book you can give a griever in those earliest days and also for when they are ready. A companion. The way we ourselves back together after loss—a literal re-membering. Perfect to gift a griever too. I hope

The book world is a wild ride these days. Much different than when Flea Marker Baby and Flea Market Fidos came out. Everything was different before social media!

Anyway, when I blow the candles out this year, I hope you can carry it on up to the highest ups. Let's make this happen for sweet sixty.

Ok, back to airplane movies with Danna and finalizing our plans. Bets on 29, 11, 5, 31, 17. Do they have a 127 on roulette?

Ok, clicking my heels wishing I could somehow come home to you both. So will keep writing. Oh, nice work Mom, two ladybugs last week. Epic for October. You really have that one down.

Love you. Miss you more.

X Me (and Danna)

PS. It would be a gift to me and those who come to my support circles, if you became a paid subscriber. It helps fund scholarship spots there. And that means everything and why I write here!