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I have seen Santa Claus. The real one. It’s simply one of the facts of my childhood, along with visiting the Grand Canyon, falling off that slide in Kansas and getting knocked out, having a Boston terrier named Beauregard, and … Continue reading →
Although it was late on a chilly December night in San Francisco, the Castro neighborhood still hummed with activity. Chatty groups moved between clubs and smokers huddled together outside bar entrances. A seventy-something nudist wearing only a beatific smile whirled … Continue reading →
My father died today. Well, more accurately, on this date four years ago. Our family affectionately refers to it as The Day Dad Got His Motorcycle. I didn’t often tell Dad that I loved him—just often enough so that I … Continue reading →
Following is the text of a brief account I wrote for The Sun magazine’s 500th issue in August 2017. It’s about my dad’s last visit to Montana, his true heartland. After my father retired, he would fly twice a year from Texas … Continue reading →
I just watched the movie Boyhood for the first time — all 166 minutes of it. Then I watched it for the second time. And then I cried. Hard. Boyhood is the much-lauded 2014 film by Richard Linklater that literally took an entire boyhood to … Continue reading →
In 2016, I made one of the most important decisions of my life: I left my career as a corporate business development executive to embark full-time onto my current path of coaching and counseling. In a way, it was not … Continue reading →
2016 brought a summer of surprises to my hometown, Baton Rouge: a black man killed by police, sparking a local and national firestorm; six police officers shot by a black man, three fatally; floodwaters engulfing the city without warning. And, somewhere in … Continue reading →
Good-byes can be tough. And messy. Especially if the good-bye is saying farewell to a loved one who has died. When my mom suffered a massive stroke last February, I had to change directions very quickly—literally. I was on a … Continue reading →
They lined up early today. I can see them, though right now I’m a thousand miles away. An eagerness shines in their eyes as they clutch their purses and wallets and try to peer in the windows, lured by the siren call of Craigslist and the newspaper ad, though a privileged few were on the private list of the organizer. Estate Sale Time.
Today is the day when most of the material possessions that my parents amassed in their 60+ years together are being offered for sale. The four of us kids have already gone through and selected the few items that we couldn’t live without (and that would fit in our respective houses), but there was still so much left over. Until today.
The view from the pulpit at St. Paul the Apostle Church in Flour Bluff, Texas, has gotten a little too familiar of late. For the second time in the space of 17 months, I found myself there to bid farewell to one of my parents. This time it was my mom, Gerry Kisling, who left this world without much notice, a few hours after suffering a massive stroke in early February. I was in LAX, waiting for a flight to San Francisco, when I got the call.
How to sum up the life of your mother in a few paragraphs and minutes? The short answer is, it can’t be done. This was my feeble but heartfelt attempt.