Dear Alan

It’s been a year now, since you left and I miss seeing you around town, waiting to meet for coffee or a quick bowl of minestrone on blustery days. 

Feeling you wake up at 3 am, making your way to the bathroom, still sleepy and trance like. 

There haven’t been many blustery days lately… have you heard?  But the predictors say there’s a fifty-fifty chance of a decent ski season, and I remember how thrilled you were when it snowed. I have photos of our front yard dusted and memories of the boys not having to go to school. Pure joy and freedom.

The drought continues though, and Covid has taken its toll on everyone’s thinking. I know how hard it was for you to spend most of your last year hunkered down, especially the days you were feeling well enough to fly the coop. It was a total bummer and yet there was no way around it.

The best part was taking care of Joaquin and you were a natural and smitten Grandpa. He thought you were cute too, especially when you gave him the “raspberry” and cheerios and his parents make sure now, he says good night before going to bed.

 Do you see, from where you sit, that your “whispers” are still a hit and I hear from your fans regularly?

 I promise I will continue to share, just like I promised when you were here. It’s still a surprise isn’t it…the unexpected gift of it all? 

There’s so much we don’t understand although I guess you know now, I’m hoping anyway.

Tell me about you. Were you as surprised as I was to see you leave? Were you blown away by what was waiting for you, like deceased family members and Dante’ and Odie too? 

I feel you tickle my face sometimes so I know you are here on occasion, and hopefully will share when the time is right. I’m all ears.

Remember the fun things we did together that we would never have done, if it were up to me? You were the impulsive one, although no one was aware by the way you presented yourself.  You were quiet most of the time, except when you weren’t. 

You introduced me to Hot Air Ballooning and what it meant to be part of a chase crew and take risks. 

It was an adventure for sure and although I was mad sometimes, I’m glad now. 

Our running days were a trip and surprised me more than you. You’d been a High School track athlete, but I was a cheerleader and not much athleticism was required back then. You always ran faster and longer but we both had fun collecting event t shirts and gift bags, as I recall.

Our trip to Japan was not sensible in any way, but it happened because you were not short sighted and eventually, I gave in. 

It was one of the best decisions made, for all of us.

My memories are like that of a movie, did it really happen?

Surreal and unexpected, mind bending and expansive. 

The long eleven-hour flight home.

Our beautiful boys.

 My pride and memory include The City Lights Book Store, Haight Ashbury, and your theater days at A.C.T. in San Francisco, where you learned to make magic with light.

You coached the kids and took them to Kings Games, made hamburgers and French fries their food staple, and insisted on building a Volleyball Court of your own design, down on the lower part of our property.


I hope you know I’m releasing the difficult times, bit by bit, and see the purpose of our union and the gift of it all.

I won’t give up Alan, you know that about me.

I will continue sharing what we created together gratefully and with resolve.

The truth is I get tired sometimes, but still I’m resolved.

Anytime you want to check in and say hello would be awesome and a little booster shot.

Still love you, my friend.

And so, we go…

wrapping my brain around it, always.




If you had the capacity to record the number of people you have personally encountered, since the day you first entered this world, the number would stagger you in its enormity. 

Every resource you have ever needed was represented in those you have passed by, it’s only your lack of awareness that makes you surprised by this statement.

So, knowing this, pay attention to everyone, to every situation, for in each of these encounters all your needs and desires can be met.

But you must be awake, which means no judging or labeling.

5 thoughts on “Dear Alan”

  1. Enjoyed this letter so much. I also write to my Michael. I particularly noticed your usage “unexpected gift.” I have often times referred to, ‘the richness of grief.’ Thank you.

  2. Love this post. I write to my Michael as well. I particularly identified with your “unexpected gift”. I often times refer to the richness of grief….always in my heart.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s