Sunday, August 15, 2010
I thought I would feel better after Sam's memorial service but I didn't feel better. I was just sad.
Patrick and I flew north Friday night and got into the rental car and drove to Mark and Rodger's house. We spent a couple of hours drinking and talking and I was pleased that they liked Patrick so much, of course I want my friends to be friends. The next morning we got up and had breakfast and then drove around Portland and ended up at this bizarre place, the Portland Memorial Mausoleum. An eight story maze-like building with thousands of crypts. Scattered about were 1960s chairs and the bottom floor had a very distinct smell of chemicals- we guessed embalming fluid. It was so strange (we were not allowed to take our cameras in).
We went back and collected Mac and went out to Sauvie Island and finally found a parking spot and walked on the beach.
Rodger.
Mac loves to play fetch in the water.
Mark tosses a fetching toy into the Columbia River.
Mac.
It was nice to sit in the sand and look at the mollusk shells.
Patrick.
The nearby bushes were loaded with blackberries. I ate four handfuls.
Blackberries.
We went to our hotel after an early supper and got ready to go to Sam's memorial. We made the mistake of wearing long-sleeved shirts and jeans- everyone else was in tee-shirts and shorts because it was so hot in Portland.
Allergy eyes.
Sam would have loved all the attention he got. It was sad to hear Greg and his closest friends speech. It was sad and funny to listen to an NPR radio show with Sam talking about his love of Legos. I drank gin and tonics and was maudlin and left a bit before midnight and sat on my hotel bed and bawled.
At breakfast, by chance, the waitress sat Patrick and I in the same booth at Doug Fir that Sam, Greg, and I had had supper on May 25, a lifetime ago.
Afterward, we went to Washington Park and wandered among the roses.
I like Primroses best.
Patrick told me the secrets of his moustache.
We got lost returning to Mark and Rodgers and then had a hard time finding a gas station near the airport. On the plane an elderly man near us started having problems and the flight attendant had to ask for doctors and nurses- luckily there were plenty of them on board. On the drive back I drove through first a dust storm and then a thunder storm. I called Chas to have someone to talk to, and it was nice to talk about stuff with him.
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Patrick and I flew north Friday night and got into the rental car and drove to Mark and Rodger's house. We spent a couple of hours drinking and talking and I was pleased that they liked Patrick so much, of course I want my friends to be friends. The next morning we got up and had breakfast and then drove around Portland and ended up at this bizarre place, the Portland Memorial Mausoleum. An eight story maze-like building with thousands of crypts. Scattered about were 1960s chairs and the bottom floor had a very distinct smell of chemicals- we guessed embalming fluid. It was so strange (we were not allowed to take our cameras in).
We went back and collected Mac and went out to Sauvie Island and finally found a parking spot and walked on the beach.
Rodger.
Mac loves to play fetch in the water.
Mark tosses a fetching toy into the Columbia River.
Mac.
It was nice to sit in the sand and look at the mollusk shells.
Patrick.
The nearby bushes were loaded with blackberries. I ate four handfuls.
Blackberries.
We went to our hotel after an early supper and got ready to go to Sam's memorial. We made the mistake of wearing long-sleeved shirts and jeans- everyone else was in tee-shirts and shorts because it was so hot in Portland.
Allergy eyes.
Sam would have loved all the attention he got. It was sad to hear Greg and his closest friends speech. It was sad and funny to listen to an NPR radio show with Sam talking about his love of Legos. I drank gin and tonics and was maudlin and left a bit before midnight and sat on my hotel bed and bawled.
At breakfast, by chance, the waitress sat Patrick and I in the same booth at Doug Fir that Sam, Greg, and I had had supper on May 25, a lifetime ago.
Afterward, we went to Washington Park and wandered among the roses.
I like Primroses best.
Patrick told me the secrets of his moustache.
We got lost returning to Mark and Rodgers and then had a hard time finding a gas station near the airport. On the plane an elderly man near us started having problems and the flight attendant had to ask for doctors and nurses- luckily there were plenty of them on board. On the drive back I drove through first a dust storm and then a thunder storm. I called Chas to have someone to talk to, and it was nice to talk about stuff with him.
