One of Ron's beloved roses.

• The longer the flight, the less room you’ll have between you and the seat in front of you. My knees actually touched the seatback.
• There is always a baby. Be kind to the parents and grateful you are not in their shoes.
• People are fascinating. What they wear, what they say, how they behave.
• When your airplane makes a sound like someone trying to saw through the floorboards, don’t panic. That’s what Xanax is for.
• Even if you don’t know the deceased, you will cry at a military funeral. If you knew and loved the person, prepare to dissolve completely into a puddle.
• Life is short. Do the things that matter.

I was preparing another Link Love post for today, but that will have to wait. We’ve had another death in the family, this time my stepfather, and I’ll be flying out to California to help my mom.

My stepfather, Ron, married my mom when I was in college. He was good to and for her, and always kind to me, too. (I’ve been fortunate in stepparents—my stepmother is a gem.) Ron loved life, was extremely active—going to the gym early in the morning and working in the yard. When my mom needed to move north to care for my grandmother who had Alzheimer’s disease, Ron willing left Southern California where he had lived for many years, to live with my mom in her childhood home and support her in her care of Grandma. He loved USC (the University of Southern California), travel, drinking good wine and martinis, and smoking the occasional cigar with my husband. We will miss him at our family celebrations.

Fishing on the Sacramento River

With my mom in 2011

“For the moon was bright, the snow full of reflection, I full of breakfast, and Nate [his horse] full of fire; while the cocks of the country crowed about us for music and the stars shot this way and that about the heavens, as if making a display of fireworks for our amusement. All was silent. As we rose [rode up] the hills and looked back upon the far distance which ran down the valley to the southeast, the two extremes of the splendour of the united powers of snow and moonbeams and the contrasted darkness of the deep ravines into which light would not penetrate, filled the whole view. I often stopped to admire the cold but burnished beauties of the prospect and felt the magnificence of the scene.

“I found George up, though I little expected it when I turned a corner to take a look at his window. I had little thought of seeing a light there at that time of the night—I ran upstairs, opened the door an inch and inquired if Mr. Gibbs lived there. Then we laughed ourselves to death and disturbed the neighbors….

“Breakfasted there and told stories till I thought I had told too many […]….”

“We encamped in a beautiful place, on the bank of a stream called Elm Creek, under the shade of two large elm trees; here was good grass, plenty of the best of wood, and some water, for the creek was very low, and as the sun was 3 hours high or more, some went out hunting while the old doctor, Beth [Bethel], and I went to cooking; we soon had the best of a fire, cooked some meat and beans, stewed some apples and peaches, boiled some rice, and baked biscuit, and fried some crulls, and as I had a glass pickle jar full of sour milk, and plenty of salaratus [baking soda], I had as fine cakes as if I had been at home; and when they returned in the evening we had a general feast.”