A "Wow!" from the YMCA in SF Takes Me Back to France, 1919

I might have done what was on my To-Do list today if I hadn't found a thank you note from the YMCA saying, "Wow!" and thanking me for my two-cents worth about the Y, now celebrating its 160th year in San Francisco.  I had writing the Y sort of in the middle of my To-Do list--one of many things.  It could very well be that their "Wow!" is part of their form letter, which ended with "Love," something I don't expect to get in a form letter but which clearly was not meant just for me.  All I wrote was this:

My Y story goes all the way back to when my grandfather, Perry Robison, was working for the Y at the end of World War I in Paris on the Rue de Provence.  At that time the United States military hadn't fought wars in other countries and didn't have experience distributing supplies for the soldiers, so they needed help from the YMCA, which had done peace-related work abroad.  Now I go to the Stonestown Y at 5:00 am every other day and think of my grandfather, who felt so good about his work (not workout) at the Y.

But grateful for a response, I found a renewed interest in sharing more.  (Watch out for me!)  So I found this picture and caption, which I know can't be read here.  It says,"Just an ordinary Y.M.C.A. secretary who is trying to do his bit in France.   For many of our soldier boys need more help in the battle of Paris than they needed in the Arregon (Argonne?) or at St. Michael.  April 26, 1919.  Perry W. Robison.

This picture of the "canal side" of the Y also interested me.  Apparently there was an American warehouse and a French one.  But what canal is this?  I spent hours sharing this in English and then in French.  

I wrote not only to the SF YMCA but to the one in France as well.

The Toilet that Daddy Would Have Bought Me

Kurt Johnson of Kurt's Plumbing just left, and I'm very happy with the toilet he just put in.  I told him that my dad didn't like to spend money, but he was so distraught by the rust/deposits that made it look as if there was always something brown in the toilet bowl that he offered to buy me a new toilet.  I turned him down, but I don't remember why.  Maybe it was because he didn't mention the plumbing involved--just the the toilet.
But I still appreciate that offer Daddy made, and I'm sorry he didn't live to see it.  When we die, they say we won't regret not having spent more time at the office.  We'll regret not getting a new, pristine toilet in time for those who care.

The Paris in the Winter Mother Sent to Me

I'm now getting into a special section the books Mom introduced me to or read with me.  I came across a volume called Paris France by Gertrude Stein, and inside it there was a copy of something Irwin Shaw wrote about Paris in the winter.  It was so clever that I sent away for the whole book.  To this copy there's a yellow post-it in Mom's handwriting saying, "Sent this Irwin Shaw to you earlier.  Returned!  No st. address!  Love, Mom."  She's also credited the copy as "from Paris!  Paris! by Irwin..."

I love my mother for having such good taste in literature and wanting to share it.  (I should also acknowledge that she wasn't a snob and came to the defense of Elizabeth Barrett Browning's "How Do I Love You?" sonnet and Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet.)

The opening of  the piece by Irwin Shaw is this:

People are always writing about cities to be hapy in.  Let me be contrary for a moment.  Let me write for those who are unhappy and are looking for a city to be unhappy in.  Let me write about Paris in the winter

The rest if pure poetry!

Thank you, Irwin Shaw, and thank you, Mom!

"I'll Bet I'm Jealous of Her."

Even though I didn't both to note Mom's "So who's this man you love?" question in 2003, in early January 2004, I did note her pondering why she didn't enjoy a friend as much as she once had.

I called Mother, who said she and Kathy were going to get together with Olga Sousa, not a really close friend but one they liked and had known for a long time.

"I'm not really looking forward to it," Mom told me.  "I just don't enjoy her as much as I once did.  I don't know why.  She hasn't done anything wrong.  Oh, I'll bet it's because she's my age and she's doing better than I am.  She's more active.  I'll bet I’m jealous of her!”

I was (and continue to be) really impressed by Mom's being able to admit this.  So often people find excuses for rejecting or criticizing another person and never own up to the possibility that their negative feelings might be jealousy.

 

"So, who's this man you love?"

Today after Efren and I had our almost-weekly session and John York and assistant put in a new window pane to replace the one that had vapor caught in the middle, I did some writing about Mom's "So, who's this man you love?" I remember thinking that she had asked me because her friends alerted her to Two Cents column in which I'd answered the question "Who are you grateful to?"  (This was later changed to "Whom are you grateful to?")  I'd said, “Last weekend when I came home from being with a man I love, I had 12 messages from family and friends wishing me a happy birthday.  I’m thankful for them. I’m also thankful for Dennis Kucinich, Noam Chomsky, Jimmy Carter and others whose actions show they haven’t given up hope of a better world.” 

Notice that I'd been careful to say "a" man rather than "the" man.

So my recollection is that Mom asked me "So, who's this man you love?" but not the very day it appeared.  It was as if she got wind of it later.  But why later?  I think I was at her house when it appeared because back in those days, November 2003, David was still spending the night on Thanksgiving, and I stayed with him in case of seizures or other things to attend to.  It appeared in the San Francisco Chronicle the next morning.  But maybe it wasn't in their Contra Costa edition of the San Francisco Chronicle, so I saw it only after I returned to San Francisco, and I'd thought mother only heard about it through friends.  But checking my timeline for the past 10 years, I see that I was wrong.  Here are some things I bothered to note in my Just the Fact timeline:

Thursday, November 27, 2003:  Did some reading, including letter from Annie and the rest of chapitre 5 de Les petites peintures.  Sent a couple of e-cards.  Did some cooking (yams, guacamole) and Olga and Mikhail, Eileen and Charles came by.  Went to Pleasant Hill for Thanksgiving.  Koto joined us this year, and she and Jonathan made pumpkin pie from scratch and chocolate pecan pie and mushroom gravy.  I spent the night.

Friday, November 28, 2003:  David had a seizure before he woke up, howled and crawled out of his sleeping bag (as if it were a trench and he were looking for some way to protect himself), looked at some objects, and grasped his VARIETY WORDFIND COLLECTION book and began circling the S-words.  I thought Two-Cents had decided against using my statement, but when I saw the SF edition of the Chronicle, there it was, heavily edited but with some of the essence:  “Last weekend when I came home from being with a man I love, I had 12 messages from family and friends wishing me a happy birthday.  I’m thankful for them. I’m also thankful for Dennis Kucinich, Noam, Chomsky, Jimmy Carter and others whose actions show they haven’t given up hope of a better world.”  I had phone messages from Ed (El Salvador) “para desearte una feliz Dia de Gracias, Tomi and Leslie in reference to Two Cents.    

I say on Sunday, Nov. 30, 2003, a rainy day, that I'd sent Mother and Kathy a thank you note on the 2cents copy.  (Runaway Bride with Julia Roberts was playing at the Balboa Theatre!)  So I guess it was from me that Mom got the reminder of "a man I love," someone I'd mentioned to her about a year earlier when she'd called and uncharacteristically asked, "What are you up to?"

"Well, I'm about to go out with a man I love."

"You're not going to marry him are you?'

"Not today."

"Well, that's good."

And then I think she probably asked me about going to Oakland to take David out to lunch.  Was it, then, on Christmas that she finally asked me?  I picture us sitting in the dining room when she asked me, "So, who's this man you love?"

It's interesting that I don't even mention her question in my Just the Facts timeline!

 

"Why did I tell you that story? How was it connected to what we were talking about? What were we talking about?"

I was confused about which peace rally was which in Walnut Creek, where Javier and I joined Mom, Kathy, and Sunny.  But now I see that the 2007 was the one after which Mom and I appeared in the Contra Costa Times the following day.  I'm not sure that she showed short-term memory loss that day, but she did a year later.  Here's my diary entry for that day.  (Keep in mind that this is the Just the Fact one.  It's a list, not an exploration!)  

Saturday, March 15, 2008  We took BART to Walnut Creek for the Peace Demonstration, where we met Mom and Kathy as planned.  Afterwards Javier treated us to lunch at Da Lac Vietnamese on Locust Street, Walnut Creek.  Funny conversation:  "Why did I tell you that story?  How was it connected to what we were talking about?  What were we talking about?  And what was the story I just told?”  

Did we think she was joking or just tired?  I see no indication that this worried me.  All I write afterwards is this:

 Back in SF we watched the last of “Blame It on Fidel” and all of “In the Valley of Elah.”