In Conversation with Dave

Dave, you never met a conversation you didn't like! You could talk about most any subject but I always felt that your favorite conversations were those in which you knew you were helping someone.You were so dedicated to your friends and inspired by your family. You lived with the wind at your back as I know you always believed that you would depart early. And so on a day that began like any other, a huge gust of wind came into the calm--a wind too strong for anyone to battle, and took you with it. Your heart might have been weak in that moment but it was one of the biggest hearts I have known.

I felt so sad that I couldn't say goodbye, but then I realized along the way, that you have lived your life as one big goodbye. You know what I mean by that! You lived exactly how you wanted to, you lived large and you gave everything you had. Any one moment of your life could have been the last and you would have been satisfied with how you lived. To me, you said goodbye each time you shared yourself with me. You had the ability to know what you needed but you also had the vision to see beyond what you needed over to what you desired. That is what made your life so full.

You planted your stakes firmly in the ground, you made waves in the sea and you flew high in the sky --you wanted it all! Your last ride was Friday. You were on the ground looking at the sea and enjoying the clear blue sky with your lovely Shari. It was perfect. If we could all orchestrate our lives so majestically!

Well, I have to tell you that I am not ready to end my conversation with you. I just can't. And something tells me that I don't have to. I hear you talking in my head and I know that everyone of your loved ones can hear you too. There are those voices that just don't disappear. You, my dearest Dave, are someone who will never disappear. Thank you for the thousands of conversations we've had over 34 years and for indulging me in the ones that we will continue to have for years to come. I love you.

Glory

Last night I went to see "Midnight in Paris", Woody Allen's new film. No, this is not a film review but rather a "note to self" (I quote Peggy Fleming here).

To say that life has been stressful lately is putting it mildly. I have not been tending to my own "garden" as it were. My "garden" is where inspiration blossoms, passion is grown, and my soul is nurtured. Last night I was desperate to water the garden and somehow I knew that "Midnight in Paris" would fill that need. I printed tickets ahead of time as I had the feeling that there would be a crowd at the small Menlo Park theatre called "The Guild". There was. We got the last seats in the very front row off to the left side. The only visual in that location was the art deco molding in antique gold swirls that kept my attention until the movie started.

I am the kind of person who gets very involved in a movie when I am in the audience. There is no half-way particpation for me. So when the movie started, I felt transported to Paris...immediately. The film took me far away from myself and yet it managed to steer me into the tightly bound chambers of my heart at the same time. I know when I am being transported because the feeling in my face changes. My jaw relaxes and I feel a wash sweeping over my skin. It is transformational and it feels as if my own curtain is rising. It's emotional and so very satisfying.

When the lights came up and it was time to exit the theatre, noone left quickly. There was so much excitement and joy all around. When I finally started up the aisle I realized that the magic had not ended with the film. There was an older man standing looking up at the screen and he had the most marvelous look on his face. It reminded me of the feeling I get when I look at Parisian apartments and wonder what went on in them over the years. I would love to have known what memories were passing through his mind and heart in that moment. Everywhere I looked, people's faces were reflecting the magic of the film. What an accomplishment for a filmmaker!

There is such glory in art. I want to share in its glory...we all need to feel its transformational effects so that we can live very full lives. Art tends to our soul the way that water tends to the garden.

A Moving Adventure

For anyone who knows our family and knows the escapades of the past few Hollywoodian months, it is my hope that you can join me in finding the humor in this print on the Uhaul that brought Camille home from the "barrio" and brought my 91 year old mother along for the ride.

Life is certainly an adventure !

Ode to My Former Self

I look at this photograph taken on Christmas Eve and I now know it captured the moment before my life profoundly changed. I felt happy to be with my family and friends and was looking forward to spending the next few days with my parents. I was drinking champagne, appreciating all the Christmas decorations in the San Francisco restaurant we were dining in, and feeling the joys of the holiday season. And then the year turned.

I remember going to the bank and asking the manager how she was...how the holidays were for her. She looked up at me with her pale face and sad eyes and told me how the year had already begun with illness and death in her family. I walked back to my car thinking I had escaped all of that for the moment and yet I had the very distinct feeling that I was on borrowed time.

I was...we all are. In two months, my father would die and I would become a different person.

Now, two more months have passed and I am learning to live with myself differently. I don't get to be my father's little girl any more--at least not in the physical realm. I miss her, I miss him and I miss the me I got to be when I was with him. Colors are so much brighter now and sounds louder. Feelings are stronger and yet my heart beats less confidently. Everything, everything is amplified by 10. I just want to be quiet. I want to be well. I wish I could reach out and touch my father and I wish I could reach in and find my former self.

A Composition

Sitting, waiting. Life in review. Born artists we are...writing our own songs. Off key, on key --we are a prelude to our own lives and then we are a succession of chords, a refrain and a reprise if lucky. We sing in chorus with our friends and loved ones...joyful, full of hot air and deep breaths. Breathe.... We breathe our way to the end of the song and until the last breath we give it our all. Each day begins with a familiar tune and we hum it gladly, full of life and harmony. When the sun sets, our voices go quiet.

Sitting, watching my father breathe quietly, machines beeping all around us making noise like scratches in old records... I close my eyes and hear him practicing his songs for his singing lessons. He's in our family room warming up his deep voice, standing so tall and singing the first few words to his favorite song, "Old Man River". It calms me to remember.

If the maestro were to enter the room, the message would certainly be: keep composing, sing loudly and harmonize together. Sing until your breath is gone. Life is your composition.

Cakewalk

I was walking down Abbott Kinney Street in Venice this week and I passed by the window of the restaurant, Lemonade. I passed and then I walked backward to get another look at the coconut cake in the window. I smiled and not just any smile, but a very big one. When I looked at that cake it took me to the Blanche Reynolds School cakewalk fundraiser circa 1965. How I loved cakewalks. There was a very long table filled with cakes of all sizes and varieties baked by all the moms of the 1960's...that means homemade! I stood in front of that table for a very long time setting my sights on the cakes that I was sure were meant for me. Top of the list was the coconut cake! My mom bought the tickets so we could enter the walk and off we went. The music started and when it stopped, whatever number I landed on in the circle corresponded to the number of the cake I had won. I would hurry over to the table with the hope that it was the coconut cake. Well, over the years I won many cakes but somehow, never the evasive coconut cake. So fast forward to Wednesday and the window at Lemonade and there we have the perfect coconut cake! Where do you think I had lunch that day? We ordered lunch and then at the very end I asked for a piece of the coconut cake. When we got to the table I told Alain the story of the coconut cake....the one that got away! We both had tears in our eyes thinking about how the little things in life matter and how, if we are lucky, the child in us never leaves. Every bite of that cake made me smile....many years later I had the winning ticket!

This is a list of what I want....

There is just enough of a child left in me that I still believe I can have all that I want. Granted I now know that it will be me who has to supply it and not Mr. Claus! Today I woke with a sense of longing...I wanted to be surrounded by my loved ones, to make holiday plans, share wish lists and finish the day with a fabulous cooked meal. I love my alone time but not today. No reason, no rhyme, just not today. I was about to think that I couldn't have what I wanted and then I opened a old book. I was researching the crown jewels and inside was an old envelope addressed to Mr. Claus, 1 North Pole Avenue, North Pole, NP 00010. My heart started jumping as I read Camille's Christmas list to Santa. Just her handwriting made me happy! Long ago I began to place letters in books and forget about them on purpose. The thinking was that I would find them one day again when I truly needed to find them. Like magic they would take me back in time, flood me with memories and reminders that would then inspire me anew. With today's discovery, my longing lessened and I was filled with so many wonderful memories of times past when the Christmas list would get written, holiday plans would begin brewing and visions of that year's Christmas dinner would begin to develop. I could hear the excited voices and see the bright eyes full of dreams both material and otherwise and, in that moment, I felt surrounded by my loved ones. Instead of wishing for everyone else's lists and excitement , what I got today was that I would make my own.

So here is a list of what I want for Christmas:

Christmas spirit even when I am alone

Holiday recipes to share

Letters sent to me that I can keep hiding

Books to tuck them in

Oh, and maybe one of the jewels I saw in the Queen's crown...

Love, (one and only, I think) Carla Labat