The 007 GentleMan Blog

Small Moments Still Find Us

2026-06-07T00:30:00.000-07:00

‘Walter Benjamin’s wife, Dora, recognized the supremacy of the religious sphere of revelation –and for her this was still tantamount to the acceptance of The Ten Commandments as an absolute value in the moral world.’ --Gershom Scholem, Walter Benjamin: THE STORY OF A FRIENDSHIP

June 7, 2000

I had two wonderful letters postmarked today from my mom’s sister/my Aunt Lillian in Northern California and my cousin MaryAnn in Colorado Springs. I read them once I arrived home from The Golden Door.

From MaryAnn -

Yesterday was a hard day.

Papa had another choking episode after lunch—one bite, then swallow; that’s the rhythm now. Anything more and his body rebels. The coughing comes suddenly, violently, like his body is fighting something it no longer understands. The diagnosis is pneumonia, but it feels more than that—like time itself is pressing in.

At dinner, Mom and I hovered over him, coaching each bite, urging patience. He gets frustrated. Anger, even. Not at us—but at the betrayal of his own body. After two strokes, the simple act of eating has become a negotiation.

We made soft foods—mashed potatoes, gravy, and peas. Watermelon for dessert. Always something gentle. Something easy. Something that won’t hurt him.

And then, for a moment. After a few bites of watermelon, Papa smiled.

He told me about Grandma—how she used to grow the sweetest, juiciest watermelons in town. How all the grandchildren would gather on her patio, juice running down their hands, summer thick in the air. He remembered everything.

For a brief second, he wasn’t struggling. He wasn’t sick. He was there.

I tucked a small umbrella tree leaf into this letter. It’s delicate—you might miss it at first. But I wanted you to have it. Its fragrance is soft, calming. It’s already beginning to shrink, losing its shape… but still holding on.

Kind of like all of us, I suppose.

Papa took his bath this morning. I cut Mom’s hair—kept it simple. We laughed about it. Small moments still find us.

I’m making dinner again tonight—pot roast, zucchini casserole, rice pudding. Soft, easy. What Papa needs.

I’m on Chapter 2 of ONE TRUE THING (good so far). I am also deep into SILKEN SAVAGE by Catherine Hart, 500 pages, the one I told you about, a historical romance and the history is well-researched. Following your advice: one chapter a day.

The mail comes late here… I’ll slip this in tomorrow.

I love you dearly.

TreeZ (MaryAnn Montoya-Gehling)

From Aunt Lillian -

Michael,

Happy Birthday.

So—you’re a year older now. Getting closer to my age (29… and holding, of course).

I hope this little note brings you a smile. I’ve been thinking about you and hope you’re doing well.

Send me your phone number—I’d love to hear your voice sometime.

With love,

Aunt Lillian

June 8, 2000

During our afternoon hike I photographed Alan, seated on a rock. I knew I wanted to look at the photo later to try and determine what he was thinking. It could’ve been something as simple as “What a view!” or something as complexed as “What will our New York City life be like?”

And postmarked today from Barbara Reynolds:

Your note about Harry Potter made me smile—you always had a way of spotting something before the rest of us caught on.

Life here feels full in that quiet, layered way. Friends weaving in and out, children growing, stories overlapping. One friend just adopted a baby girl—tiny, brand new—and it reminded me how life keeps beginning again, even when we’re not looking.

I tried to see a school production of Sorcerer’s Stone—sold out. So, we went ice skating instead. Sometimes the substitute memory becomes the one that stays.

Thank you for the photos—your “Michael in Florence” feels so at home there. Black-and-white film suits you. There’s something timeless in the way you see the world.

I think of you moving through cities, collecting moments, and I wonder—are you traveling solo this time, or still sharing those journeys?

Life here is busy, layered, and moving forward as it always does. But I carry you in it more than you probably realize.

Love,

Barbara

June 9, 2000

I took a self-timer photo of myself in my Golden Room robe after dinner. I loved walking around the Labyrinth, too. It’s so meditative to walk slowly, silently, and simply mellow out. The challenge is not to think of much—and being here at The Golden Door certainly releases any stressors. It’s as if once you walk in all the stress outside is left there, not allowed to enter.

And two more wonderful letters postmarked today from my nieces, Lauren and Leigh:

From Leigh Armijo-

Dear Uncle Mike,

Happy Birthday—sorry this is late.

We went to Virginia City and thought of you—it felt like the kind of place you’d love. We saw The Green Mile with Dad… it was so good, and so sad.

You have to see Center Stage. It’s amazing. Lauren and I are starting ballet again—I can’t wait.

Write back soon. I miss you.

Love,
Leigh

From Lauren Armijo (loved her PIGGY stationery)-

Uncle Mike—

I’m so jealous Leigh gets to go to New York. I’ve always wanted to go.

We’re about to leave for an Alaska cruise—just a couple days now. School just ended, and I’m officially a sophomore.

I know I’ve been quiet… just busy with everything. But I hope you liked the gift.

And yes—I still want it all: actress, model, singer.

I finally saw Olivia Newton-John in concert. It was so cool. And after Center Stage, we decided—we’re going back to ballet. First class is tomorrow morning.

Wish us luck.

Love always,
Lauren

June 10, 2000

1:45pm:

Dear Mom,

I'm here in San Marcos, CA at the spa resort called The Golden Door. When I was here last year around this same time I sent you a card. It's not the same this year. First of all, a lot ot this place is no longer "new" to me; therefore, it can lose its zest. Another reason it's not the same is because when I leave this resort I'll realize that you're not alive anymore for me to hear your voice or see your smile. The night before last I had a dream of you. I was in a car and looked through a window to see you smiling at me. My cousin, Carol Lucero (your niece) was right when she told me I'd see you in dreams.

This week was also sad because I signed the final papers to sell, 356 Magnolia Drive, your home. It's a turning point to have to sell that house; however, I'm happy that John, Sherri and the kids are still on that 'home away from home' of Magnolia Drive.

While the Golden Door reminds me that life is worth living I know I will never be the same without you, mother, my dearest, best-friend.

I met an elderly man here named Mars Bishop from Rhode Island. His mother died nine years ago and said my feeling of loss will go on for two years. I can't imagine NOT feeling a loss--ever. I look forward to going home to see photographs of you.

And from my former coworker and dear friend, Dorothy Rua, using a Forget Me Not card of musical instrument -

Dearest Michael,

I’m so sorry about your mom.

I know how deeply you loved her, and how much of who you are comes from her. That kind of loss doesn’t pass—it settles into you.

I’m glad you’re writing, keeping a journal of your conversations with her. That feels right. That feels like love continuing in another form.

Your photos meant so much to me—especially the ones from Florence. You have such an eye for beauty, for memory, for holding onto what matters.

This chapter of my life is shifting too—my last day at Dreyer’s, a new job ahead, a move toward something unknown. It feels like standing between two lives.

But through all of it, I keep thinking of you.

You are always in my thoughts. Always in my heart.

Love always,
Dorothy

June 11, 2000

It’s Sunday and the feeling after one-week at THE GOLDEN DOOR makes me think of my dad when he used to say to me as a kid after a bath, “You look brand new.” I do feel brand new now. The daily hikes, the nutritional meals (most ingredients from their own garden) and the daily spa treatments of massage, body scrub, facial, manicure, pedicure, etc. really make one look and feel brand new.

June 12, 2000

Alan and I were excited to go to LAX Airport today to pick up Gloria and Jack after their roundabout European Cruise adventure.

Funny because in my mailbox was a card from Gloria:

Dearest Michael,

Your notes and photos brought such warmth into my day—truly.

You have a way of making people feel seen, remembered, valued. It’s rare.

I feel lucky—deeply lucky—to have you in my life.

With love always,
Gloria

Early June 2000 was not totally quiet, not like walking around the labyrinth at The Golden Door.

It was full of voices—
some grieving,
some dreaming,
some simply living forward.

Letters arriving from different corners of life, each carrying a piece of the world as it was:

A father fading.
A niece becoming.
A friend beginning again.
A memory refusing to disappear.

And me—somewhere in-between all of it, reading, holding, becoming.

June 13, 2000

Alan and I were on a quest to adhere to good eating habits that we’d learned at THE GOLDEN DOOR. So, Alan made a Turkey Burger lunch at home. Boy, it was that delicious.

While at THE GOLDEN DOOR we met Alberto Andrade. He’s the coolest guy and manages the RENNAISANCE HOTEL right in the heart of Times Square, New York City. He was remaining in LA and meeting his siblings (Alex, Irene and Silvia) who were visiting from Mexico. We all got together for dinner, and it was so much fun, laughing and sharing the stories after our week at The Golden Door. Of course, my favorite line was: “I won the Mountain Man Award”. Ha-ha Our real estate pal, Ron de Salvo, was there also, but he doesn’t like his photo taken. He took a photo of us. We ate at MORTON’s on Melrose in West Hollywood (very posh, or as my niece would remind me of using Joan Rivers phrase: ‘very puff-puff').

On a highlight note, my mom’s house was sold, and the escrow closes tomorrow, June 14, 2000. It sold for $388,000, which I will split between myself and my brother, Tony. My brother John will get the house he lives in (100%). Of course, after fees, closing costs, etc. The amount whittles down to our proceeds of $367,189.58. So, I will get $183,594.79 (of which I think I will invest in another real estate investment).

‘I’ve tried and will go on trying to see those last minutes again, pounding on them sometimes like it’s the door of a damn bank vault, but if there’s anything in there at all to be remembered, it’s not coming to me. Access denied.’ --Barbara Kingsolver, DEMON COPPERHEAD

My Pet Fish

2026-05-31T00:30:00.000-07:00

‘If you want to understand a man’s motivations, all you have to do is ask him: What would you do with $50,000 dollars?’--Amor Towles, THE LINCOLN HIGHWAY

May 31, 2000

I telephoned Grandma and the real estate agent, Dianna Wyman, today.

While Alan was at his office, I was in the Wilshire Building Courtyard, writing letters. The chihuahua card seen on the table was my Birthday card from Ashley, Holly, Ally and Dylan.

Later that evening, Alan and I had complimentary tickets to the Director’s Guild to see THE REPLACEMENTS, a Keanu Reeves/Gene Hackman film where professional football players went on strike, and the owners of the team hired substitute players. It was a bit of a comedy, but there were dramatic moments too.

Barbara Reynolds never fails with another postcard. This one is from the Museum of Modern Art, New York. The image was a scene from the Babylonian sequence of the D.W. Griffith film, INTOLERANCE, from 1916. I’ve never seen this film (before my time), but it has four tales about the ongoing human struggle against prejudice and humanity. She wrote that she probably bought the card there and how she was flying to Chicago in a few months. She continued:

“...I need to work this out. Things are coming together and yep; I’m taking baby steps and still holding my breath. I’m getting through the book, LIGHTS OUT, and working in our yard and my garage. Yeah! I’ve got new things on my wall and freed up a frame. I’m going to see if some of your photos fit. I will let you know.

Love,

Barbara

June 1, 2000

At 2pm Alan and I met with Charles Russo, the insurance broker, to write checks for our insurance. I’m glad that’s out of the way.

I spent the rest of the day working at home with an escape walk to the pier with Alan. A surfer was riding a wave, and I often say to Alan as I did today, “We’re riding a wave every day.”

I received a couple of postcards from Gloria’s excursion. I loved the barber shop postcard by photographer, Michel Waldman, from an area called Sesimbra (near Lisbon, Portugal). Gloria wrote a sweet note, but I especially loved her last joke line—or maybe it’s NOT a joke!

This photographer is very important in Lisbon.

The internet lines are down today so no e-mail. Meeting lots of people from all walks of life and from all different parts of the world (Australia, England, Canada, China) and from all over the US. After all there are 2600 people aboard this ship and I’ve met 2599.

Love Always,

Mom and Jack

The other card was a typical one of sights from Tuscany, Italy:

Hi,

Just back from a tour of Tuscany, particularly San Gimignano and Volterra. Excellent example of medieval towns. I had a guide that explained everything to us. Lots of hills and walking.

Best Regards,

Mommy and Jack

June 2, 2000

Alan and I left for our favorite hike and I love the waterfall section. I saw the MOM and MIKE cactus once again.

Once home, I was inspired me to write mom in the Mom Journal again:

June 2, 2000

Dear Mom,

Today is Aunt Lela’s birthday. I ordered a nice gift for her at redenvelope.com, a vitality gift set with a bamboo tray. I’m sure she’ll like it. I sent it a week ago and never received a Thank You note from her—at least not yet. It doesn’t matter. It’s best to give rather than receive.

I read the book called HARRY POTTER AND THE SORCERER’S STONE. I just finished it today, but I must share a few of the lines in the book that ‘got to me’:

“Books! And cleverness! There are more important things—friendship and bravery.”

“To one as young as you, I’m sure it seems incredible, but it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.”

“...Love as powerful as your mother’s for you leaves its own mark. To have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever.”

I had to share this with you. It made me feel better, knowing you are amidst your next great adventure.

June 3, 2000

I loved seeing guitar players (just two random guys) on the beach today. I should go down there and randomly ask them what they would do with $50,000 dollars. I remember the gal who was a few years older than me in high school named Debbie Sivyer. She married some Stanford University graduate, and he gave her $50,000 dollars to start a business. She chose cookies: MRS FIELDS COOKIES

Later, Alan and I did something different this Saturday night. There was a TOM OF FINLAND cocktail and fashion show at THE FACORY in West Hollywood. I took a few photos as inspiration to get in better shape. Lucky for us because tomorrow we drive to Escondido to THE GOLDEN DOOR for a full week of garden to table food, exercise and spa treatments. We should be transformed by the end of the week.

Cousin MaryAnn wrote a beautiful, handwritten letter that was powerful and I loved how ordinary moments quietly carried love, duty, memory and time all at once:

She wrote to me from Farmington, New Mexico, in the middle of something both tender and heavy as she was caring for her Papa as his strength faded.

What comes through most is not illness, but devotion.

She describes days shaped by constant watchfulness: helping him walk, making sure he eats, sitting beside him so he doesn’t fall asleep mid-meal. There is a quiet rhythm to it—washing dishes by hand, preparing simple food, adjusting to his new fragility. Even sleep becomes uncertain. Even small tasks require patience.

And yet, within that weight, life keeps flickering.

She tells me how Papa, even then, still shared stories—memories from childhood, fragments of people and moments long gone. A painting in the living room becomes a doorway to 1921, to his parents, to a sister with a fierce sense of justice who once shouted down injustice on a schoolyard. Even as his body weakens, his past remains vivid.

There are small, almost cinematic details:
– Sitting outside with him at night on the patio after dinner
– Watching him drift in and out of sleep in a wicker chair
– The careful choreography of helping him move without falling
– A speech therapist arriving just to help him swallow

Maryann doesn’t present herself as heroic—but she is. She stays longer than she planned. She chooses to be there. Not out of obligation, but love.

And then, unexpectedly, the letter opens outward.

She writes about the land around her—trees, gardens, and quiet observations of nature. A young weeping willow. The idea of placing a white lawn chair beneath it, like something out of another century. A red-needle tree so striking she jokes they might have to return just to take it home.

These moments matter. They are breaths between responsibilities. Proof that even in difficult seasons, beauty insists on being seen.

She misses me, too. Mentions catching a glimpse of me on TV in Las Vegas, New Mexico months earlier—how something so small stayed with her.

And beneath it all, there’s an undercurrent she never quite says outright:

Time is changing things.

Papa is no longer the man he was. The family is adjusting. Roles are shifting. The past and present are sitting side by side—sometimes gently, sometimes painfully.

But what remains constant is this: Care. Memory. Love expressed through showing up.

June 4, 2000

I brought along my latest book called THE PERFECT STORM by Sebastian Junger. It was our second time here, and I like how we all get our very own private bungalow unit. I was in Room C2. I took a photo of my front door.

The vegetable garden is so pristine. The strawberries growing there are luscious.

I was voted the MOUNTAIN MAN Award. I think it’s because I was doing every single morning and afternoon hike. I was good at it, too.

June 5, 2000

Photo: Linda Perez-Plesa

Yes, the GOLDEN DOOR is special. We were here last year and it’s worth it to get back into the physical groove.

The orange trees are so beautiful. The mass of avocado trees is so beautiful to see during our morning and afternoon hikes. I want to smuggle one and bring it to my room, but I cannot interfere with my goal for the week.

June 6, 2000

The staff is so nice. I took a photo of a few of my favorites: Linda Perez-Plesa in skin care; Brian, the physical trainer, and Debbie, the nutritionist.

While reading THE PERFECT STORM book today I had forgotten I had slipped a recent card from my niece, Ashley. The cover of the card depicted THE QUEEN OF EVERYTHING. Surely, she is that, Queen. Ha-ha She wrote sweetly and I laughed at how she describes ‘my pet fish’.

Wussup!

Today’s PASSIONS was VERY good! Ivy is hella smart and put two and two together and told Eve that Chad was her son. Theresa is going to the Bahamas with Ethan and Chad and Whitney kissed. There is a new Jessica and Kay saw Charity floating with her powers and Timme, the doll, talking.

It’s okay that Britney Spears was on the cover of the TV Guide cuz NSYNC was on the cover in April. I cheated; I read the article during FRIENDS. It was interesting.

There are only 9 more days left of school! I’m so excited but nervous about my finals.

The picture in the car (of me in the red car rental) was a flashback since I haven’t driven since! My pet fish, Lance, died. Jeanne gave me him, so Yikes...I don’t really wanna tell her. Gotta go!

Love You,

Always, Ashley

“Where would we be in this soulless universe if there weren’t a few people who hold on to memories, their hearts yearning for long-lost feelings?” --Nicolas Barreau, ONE EVENING IN PARIS, a novel

Love Remains Steady and Certain

2026-05-24T00:30:00.000-07:00

‘At the end of a long day, maybe a crack in the plaster is all you need to trigger fanciful thoughts.’--Amor Towles, THE LINCOLN HIGHWAY

May 24, 2000

My Birthday week is here, and I cannot fathom the fact that I am now forty-one. Ouch. How did that happen when I still feel 27; however, I have always felt the ideal age for a man is forty-five, so I’m not there yet.

The Birthday cards are trickling in. My grandmother (mom’s mom) sent two heartfelt cards. In a nutshell, there’s something timeless in how a grandmother defines love—not in grand declarations, but in the steady accumulation of small, enduring truths.

A grandson, she writes, is someone whose thoughtfulness brightens your day… someone cheerful, fun-loving, and effortlessly woven into the fabric of your heart. Time passes—almost imperceptibly—from boyhood to strength and stature—but the place he holds never shifts.

Birthdays, for her, are not just markers of age, but gentle returns: to memories of a little boy, to moments held close, to a love that does not change even as everything else does.

And then, in her own hand—simple, unpolished, and all the more meaningful—she brings the world back down to earth: the heat of late May, plans for Memorial Day, a glance at the newspaper, the noticing of a date. Everyday life, quietly documented.

“I love you. Take care,” she writes—no embellishment needed.

Because in the end, her message is clear:
Love isn’t something that evolves with time—it’s something that remains, steady and certain, in every thought of you.

My first cousin, Carol Lucero, and second cousin, MaryAnn Gehling (TreeZ) also sent thoughtfulness:

Carol writes with a quiet awareness of life’s weight—acknowledging a difficult year, hoping I’ve managed, reaching across distance with care. There’s something grounding in her tone: reflective, present, and gently encouraging. Even in the ordinary—summer plans not yet formed, the beginning of yoga—she offers something subtle but lasting: a reminder to care for the self, to seek calm, to endure.

And then there is TreeZ. Her love arrives not just in words, but in time spent—stitched, chosen, assembled. A handmade bookmark, fabrics selected with intention, every detail carrying meaning. Music carefully tracked down. Cookies are baked. Hours poured into something that could be held, touched, and kept.

She doesn’t just give a gift—she builds an experience. And beneath it all is something even deeper: a declaration that family is not only blood, but choice. That belonging can be found, claimed, and felt.
“My soul has finally found its place,” she writes.

There’s laughter, too—the kind that happens when you’re with family, when your soul recognizes home. And in that simple truth lies everything:

Love is time given.
Love is attention paid.
Love is choosing someone—again and again—and letting them know they matter.

I also received cards from cousin Marie Antoinette, Art Kleinman and kids, Cousin Jessica Markus, and Barbara Reynolds had to rub it in about me being born on the Chinese New Year of the Pig. I prefer the ‘Boar’ term.

Meanwhile, I drove to West Hollywood to meet Cousin Jose Mercado for lunch at DAILY GRILL. It was fun. He’s worried about his mom. It was a nice outing. I hope he finds his way in his pursuit as an actor.

May 25, 2000

Alan and I left at 9:35AM for Las Vegas. We stayed at the VENETIAN HOTEL and had lunch at CANALETTO. I brought along a few more Birthday cards I received from nieces Ashley + Holly and Ally, Lauren and Leigh, Cousin Edna in Santa Fe and Carrie Freiman:

If the older voices in my life spoke in reflection and intention, the younger ones arrived with something just as meaningful—unfiltered love.

Their messages are simple, sometimes rushed, sometimes late, sometimes playful—but always real.

A quick “Happy Birthday,” a promise to write more, a joke about age.
Notes scribbled between busy days and growing lives.
Updates about first jobs, school nearing its end, excitement for what’s next.

There’s laughter in them—inside jokes, light teasing, the kind that only exists within family.
There’s distance, too—London mentioned, time apart acknowledged—but always paired with the certainty of reunion: see you soon.

And then, woven through it all, something unmistakable:

“You’re important to me.”
“You’ve made a difference in my life.”
“I love you.”

Not dressed up. Not overthought. Just said.

One writes about life changing—how birthdays aren’t the same, how people grow—but still find gratitude in the ability to smile, to remember, to look ahead. Another apologizes for lateness but insists it’s never too late to care. Another thanks me for simply being part of their life.

And in one of the purest lines of all—
“I can’t wait till your next visit.”

Because that’s what these cards hold:

Not just celebration, but connection.

Not just words, but presence—however imperfect, however brief.

A chorus of voices, each different, each sincere, all saying the same thing in their own way:

You matter.
You’re loved.
And we’re still growing—together.

I AM LUCKY. Love remains steady and certain.

And the evening was capped off by a dinner at AUREOLE at the Mandalay Bay Resort in Vegas. The wine Alan ordered was top notch: Chateauneuf de Pape.

May 26, 2000

My actual Birthday Day...Yay! Alan bought tickets for us to see NATALIE COLE. Now that’s UNFORGETTABLE (love when she sings that as a duet with her father, Nat King Cole).

I love the mural of the CASABLANCA movie scene Warner Bros. Stage 16 Restaurant.

After the show we dined at PRIME inside the Bellagio Hotel. I am so happy. The only thing better would be seeing Natalie backstage. Ha-ha.

May 27, 2000

Alan and I had a quick breakfast at ZEFFERINO in the Venetian Hotel Canal Shoppes and then in-a-flurry we flew back to LAX arriving at around 2:45PM.

Upon our arrival I had a postcard from Gloria and Jack postmarked from Portugal:

Hi Guys,

How was your trip to Vegas?

Again, Happy Birthday MONTH, Michael. Just back from a tour of the Acores Islands in formation. They have an interesting history. We are starting to meet more interesting folks but still find them LACKING. Woe is me! Jack is doing fine working out daily itineraries while trying to stay away from meat.

Love Always,

Mom & Jack

May 28, 2000

I stressed the fact that I still had a few days left of my Birthday month. Alan grinned.

We walked to the Marina boats. I saw a kid on a swing and a little boy with a wedgie. I was shocked to see a boat named LOVE YOU MOM. I loved that, of course. I wore my #30 Denver Broncos jersey that my Cousin Marie Antoinette sent me to make it appear that I just turned '30' years old. It's called subliminal advertising (now you know I was a Marketing Major).

I had too much clutter on my desk, and I tried to organize it—a never ending battle sometimes.

Alan and I had pina coladas at the Ritz Carlton Hotel since it was beautiful at the end of May sunny.

We ended up at the Beach Cities 16 Theaters to see a raunchy comedy called ROAD TRIP. We laughed a little bit. It was about four college buddies who embark on a road trip to retrieve a tape that was mistakenly mailed to a female friend. It was rather goofy but maybe that’s what we need sometimes.

May 29, 2000

Just when I thought Alan couldn’t think of anything more special to do for my Birthday month, we found ourselves at the W HOTEL in Westwood. Susan and Carrie joined us. We had some good laughs and I was happy I had two days left: May 30th, 31st.

Alan: "I can't wait until this month is over, so I can rest."

May 30, 2000

My follow-up dental appointment to remove my temporary crowns for permanent ones was a success at 11AM today.

I’m enjoying HARRY POTTER and THE SORCERER’s STONE. Now I see what all of the hoopla is about—a good read. And I’m using Alan’s Birthday postcard as my bookmark. The postcard is called BEACHED, of a guy relaxing IN THE SAND. I want to replicate the scene with me in that pose. Ha-ha. Alan wrote behind the card:

Michael,

Love you and wish you a great birthday in Vegas. Why don’t we find a piece of sand somewhere and lay out as in the picture.

Love you,

Alan.

Cousin Edna wrote again, mentioning how Memorial Day takes up a new meaning after the loss I experienced; however, I was caught up on my Birthday month and didn't think that way. I suppose this is a good thing. She also mentioned seeing a movie called DINOSAUR. It looks great and I must make a point to see it just for special effects alone.

I called client Maxine Myers and Barry Smolev is still weighing up the idea of becoming a Verona client; however, Alan insists, “We don’t want him.”

‘Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.’--Anais Nin, as read in the book DO by A.C. Ping

Where the Heart Is

2026-05-17T00:30:00.000-07:00

‘I must have lived this before in another life, because it speaks to me so much. It’s as though I were trying to draw you into my memory.’--Denyse Beaulieu, THE PERFUME LOVER

May 17, 2000

I called cousin, Jose Mercado, today. He’s attending UCLA for the Theater Arts program, so I felt a need to show some hospitality. We will meet up at the Daily Grill in West Hollywood on May 24th. We both share the same birthdate: May 26th.

I took a random photo of my cologne and morning bathroom stuff.

I laughed at a photo Alan showed me today. He took a photo of me when we were in Italy recently. It looked like I was starting to look Italian.

In case you were wondering...I did write to mom on Mother’s Day:

May 14, 2000 — 8:42 AM

Dear Mom,

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!

I had a dream of you last night and it was not very pleasant. I was in a hospital, and I was trying to get someone to help you as you waited in the waiting area. You were having trouble breathing and your face showed fear and pain. I wanted to make you feel better. I was helpless and no one would react quickly enough. Then, the sun started to shine through the hospital windows, creating a bright, bright light. I could see it was making you feel better—but it scared me. That was when I woke up. Sometimes I have these dreams and I wake up and realize that you really are gone.

Last weekend I went to Alameda (from May 6–May 9). I stayed at your house and visited you and Dad at the Holy Sepulcher Cemetery. On Saturday, Sherri, Ashley, Holly, Ally, & Dylan accompanied me. It was nice, but I felt the need to go alone. So—I did. I arrived at 9 AM on the morning of May 8th. I read my meditation of the day as I did on May 6th. I love that “Healing After Loss” book. Afterwards, I went to see Grandma and Betty. Of course, we talked about you. It’s not the same here on earth without you, you know.

I left Grandma’s house and went to John’s house where I had a computer session with him. It was fun. I introduced him to the Schwab website and showed him his inherited Roth IRA online. I had to leave suddenly to pick up Ashley & take her to the Coliseum DMV on Edes St. She passed her test. She had such an excited and relieved smile when she was done. I knew then that she had passed. You should have been there with me. I know you would have been there if you could. Perhaps you were there, right?

If only it were true (like the Marc Levy book I just finished).

We watched Passions at Ashley’s house as Grandma Janet arrived. All of us ate Chinese at the Harbor Isle place. Then we dropped Grandma Janet in her car & we all took the van to the Union City Century 25 to see Where the Heart Is (the Ashley Judd & Natalie Portman film). We munched on a little cake at John & Sherri’s house for Ashley’s 16th birthday. It was all very nice. The only thing missing was you. I thought of you (silently) as we drove to Alameda from the movie theater.

Today, Mother’s Day, we’re going to have brunch at home for Gloria. Later we will go to dinner at Lucques for the prix fixe menu. Carrie is going to accompany us.

On Friday, May 12th, Dianna called to say we got an accepted offer of $388,000 on your house for sale. It was a birthday gift for Tony, I suppose. He’s the one who so adamantly wanted to sell the house initially. Then again—it’s probably for the best when we get your estate taxes done in October. The memories will always be available to all of us when we walk or drive on Magnolia Drive.

I wish I could talk to you about it. I mean, I know I can… but I want to literally see your face, see your expressions on your face, see your smile and hear your voice. No matter what… you’ll always be with me, Mom. I love you so much and I especially miss you on Mother’s Day. It’s just not the same holiday for me anymore.

I’m reading The Talented Mr. Ripley now. I took you to see the film on Christmas Day 1999—do you remember?

OK—time to shower, take my pills & feel refreshed for this difficult day without you.

May 18, 2000

Between 7-8AM we bid Bon Voyage farewell to Jack and Gloria for their cruise ship escape. Alan and I were up early so we went to CASA DEL MAR Hotel for breakfast. Then I wrote to mom again:

Dear Mom,

Alan and I just came back from breakfast at Casa del Mar. When we returned home, Herb had walked by & left an envelope for me with a poem, a story & an article about getting over my grief-stricken state.

I loved the poem because the title of the poem reminded me of what you gave me and what I gave you. In addition, the title reminded me of what you still give me and what I still give you. The title of the poem is “The Gift of Lasting Love.”

I am starting to have the courage to move on with my life without being able to talk to you “in person.” I miss you more than I can say, but I know you’d want me to make the rest of my “living” days worthwhile.

And so—I will try to do just that, Mom!

It’s like the last five lines of the poem:

“A love that has grown to be part of the heart
And just like the stars, the sun and sea
This love will go on through eternity
For true love lives on when earthly things die
For it is part of the heart that will never die.”

I love you, Mom.

At 6:30pm, Alan and I met up with Dan Cuevas in his office suite in West Hollywood to discuss his decor plans for 66 Leonard Street #10A in New York City. I took a random photo of Dan, explaining details to Alan as they examined the floorplan.

Then the three of us ate at a place called NUMBERS. Dan chose the place and we learned that it’s a cross between a restaurant, a cruising bar and a see-and-be-seen lounge. It was originally on Sunset Blvd and then moved to Santa Monica Blvd. Leave it to Dan to introduce us to a place we’d never know about.

May 19, 2000

I called Barry Smolev. He’s the Schwab client I had who really likes my advice, but he’s too high maintenance to take on as a client. He wants unrealistic returns; however, he keeps calling, so I gave him a courtesy return call. He’s just seeking free advice.

I spotted a photo by Annie Liebowitz of Tour de France bike racer, Lance Armstrong, from August 8, 1999. Lance is zooming away on a bike, completely naked. It’s a kind of a cool pic though. Who would have thought of that? Only Annie...

I wrote to mom again:

May 19, 2000

Dear Mom,

I was just looking at your little card/credit card holder with the London Underground logo on it. You must have gotten the holder when you flew from San Francisco to London on British Airways the year Princess Diana passed away.

Anyway, I was looking at your California Driver’s License. I remember you showed it to me over the Christmas holidays. You were automatically renewed to 9-6-04 because of your flawless driving record. I remember laughing at your DMV photo. You looked so serious.

I also noticed a prayer card in your wallet with a prayer printed in Spanish:

Madre Santísima de Lourdes,

me encomiendo hoy a ti porque tú conoces las heridas que lastiman mi vida.

Intercede ante tu Hijo Jesús para alcanzar la sanación que necesito en mi vida y la que necesitan mis seres queridos…
Tú eres nuestra Madre y en ti ponemos hoy toda nuestra confianza.

You also had the collector card from Blockbuster of the movie Titanic. I know why you loved that movie now. At the end—when Leonardo DiCaprio died in the freezing water and Kate Winslet lived—you compared it to you & Dad, didn’t you?

May 19, 2000 — 4:10 PM

Dear Mom,

“We can only hope, in some small way, our time here will be remembered.”

That was the last line in the new Disney film Dinosaur, which I just saw.

Mom, I want you to know that your time here will always be cherished and remembered by me!

Love always & forever,

Michael Joe Armijo

Alan and I had dinner at JOE’s on Abbott Kinney with Herb Braha. Herb is always good for some funny laughs. I thanked Herb for the story and poem he left for me this morning.

May 20, 2000

Paloma sent me a late afternoon Hotmail email message from the South of France:

It was an equal part of confession, gossip, and European postcard.

She writes in the aftermath of a family rupture, a fierce fight with her brother that feels final. There’s a raw honesty to it— “I wish he was not my brother, even if I want to forget about him, I can’t really.” It’s the kind of line you don’t expect in an email… but exactly what makes it unforgettable.

And then, almost without transition, life surges forward.

They’ve just signed up for a new apartment in Balaruc Les Bains—top floor, no less—with dreams of building a terrace overlooking the Mediterranean air. Possibility replaces tension. Reinvention, already underway.

A chance encounter follows: a mysterious figure connected to New York, castles, and hotel dreams—a Relais & Châteaux vision in the making. Somehow, even my own Verona Capital world slips into the conversation, as if continents were only loosely defined.

From there, the email becomes a time capsule of 2000:

The collapse of early internet retail (“Have you heard about Boo.com? Big disaster!”)

The rise of clever French concepts (crêperie-only restaurants in California—imagine!)

A casual brush with global culture—films, remakes, and the growing reach of Taxi

And then—Cannes.

Just like that, she’s off to the festival. Mentions of Depardieu, Claudia Schiffer, Andie MacDowell, Uma Thurman—dropped as casually as dinner plans. The Hotel Martinez. The promise of glamour, proximity, and access.

She teases me about New York, about the Plaza, —a playful nod to ambition and scale.

And then, as quickly as it began:

“I hardly ever write but as you can see when I do it’s for real.”

A promise follows—something in the mail.

And I believe her.

Alan and I dined at LE CHARDONNAY. It’s a French Bistro in the Melrose Ave area known for the Art Deco flair and flattering lighting. It was a nice escape for a new ambience.

May 21, 2000

The Sunday morning walk was foggy. I liked the mood.

May 22, 2000

During our hike to the Santa Monica Mountains Conservancy Park, I spotted a path that reminded me of Venice, Italy. There was a restaurant like that, and I named it Randolph Phase II (there’s a Phase I and a Phase III path).

I also spotted a ‘V’ Tree that made me think of mom: Virginia.

Sandra Donald wrote a sweet pre-Birthday note for me:

Sandra writes from Pearl, Mississippi, her voice gentle and rooted in faith. She’s been working on her discipleship book and, in the same breath, says she’s been praying for me. It’s my “birthday week,” she reminds me—offering something as simple and sincere as homemade lemonade. The kind of invitation that feels less about the drink and more about being remembered.

She reflects on the photos I sent—thoughtful, observant, even noting the quality of the film. There’s a quiet pride in her words, a sense that she’s paying close attention.

And then, a shift.

“Michael, nothing has changed in my situation. Do you think it ever will?”

It lands softly, but it sticks.

Life continues around her in small, vivid details: a Friday afternoon softball game with the women in her prison building, laughter, a Cuban neighbor, a fleeting sense of joy. Then back to routine— “the same daily routine.”

Her son and his girlfriend are moving to Florida for better pay. She isn’t happy about it but accepts it with a kind of resigned grace: “What can Mother do… nothing.”

And yet, despite everything, the letter closes with warmth:

A birthday wish.
A reminder that I am “very special.”
And the unmistakable feeling of being held in someone else’s thoughts.

Love, Sandra Donald.

May 23, 2000

It was letter writing day.

And Paloma sent me a package, and inside was a cool, beige short-sleeve IZOD shirt for me. How sweet is that? So, that’s what she meant in the email about something coming in the mail. I need a tan to wear it, so I'll go away from the fog!

Cousin MaryAnn Montoya-Gehling sent me a copy of the book she co-wrote with her husband, Richard:

Michael,

This is the second edition of our book. I don’t like it as well as the first. The first one had a higher quality paper, and the layout and graphics were better, but we are lucky this went into a second edition. It means the book sells well. MaryAnn

‘Do you know the meaning of the word “GENTLEMAN?” It means someone who does things gently. That is the whole art and mystery of love.’--Paulo Coelho, THE SUPREME GIFT

The Secret of Life

2026-05-10T00:30:00.000-07:00

‘Remember the three wise monkeys: See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil.’ --Julian Barnes, A SENSE OF AN ENDING

May 10, 2000

I’m reading the ‘IF ONLY IT WERE TRUE’ book by Marc Levy. I’m loving it. It’s a romantic fantasy about a young architect in San Francisco who discovers that the woman appearing in his apartment is not a ghost but the spirit of a doctor lying in a hospital coma after a car accident. It’s quite different and the two of them grow closer as he becomes determined to save her life. It has a nice mix of humor, tenderness, and magic. We can always use a little magic in our lives—which makes me think of that mid-70s song called MAGIC by PILOT. Do you know it? Oh oh...it’s magic, you know—never believe it’s not so...

May 11, 2000

I had a dental appointment this morning. While in my office I saw a cool advertisement for my favorite new show on HBO called SEX IN THE CITY. I liked it so much I took a photo of it. I always have my camera ready for unexpected sightings.

Alan wrote the cutest Birthday card for my Birthday MONTH! It depicted Italian Biscotti with toasted espresso beans (including a recipe of how to make the biscotti on the back of the card). I would make biscotti if he helped me, so I don’t think it’ll happen anytime soon. He also surprised me with a photo of me ‘thinking’ while at Keukenhof in Amsterdam. I never knew he took that shot. He also added some cool Palm Trees in a photo and wrote:

Dear Michael,

Just a reminder that during your Birthday month we need to talk a lot, find new places for coffee. Always remember how you loved the palm trees in LA.

In addition, stop and smell these flowers in Amsterdam.

I Love You. Happy Birthday Month.

Alan

May 12, 2000

Alan and I had a magnificent lunch at IVY AT THE SHORE. Yummy! Alan photographed me with my iced tea. I love their colorful, flowery menus.

May 13, 2000

We enjoyed a Saturday matinee of THE LAST SEPTEMBER, starring the wonderful Maggie Smith. It takes place in 1920s Ireland; an elderly couple reside over a country estate. Living with them are their loud niece, their Oxford student nephew and married houseguests who are trying to cover up that they’re homeless. The niece romanticizes with a soldier and a hidden guerilla fighter, then all becomes topsy-turvy when a new, witty guest arrives giving unwanted advice. What can I say? All the right ingredients for a good story. Best line from Maggie Smith as Lady Myra: “I’ve always thought the secret of life is to keep people slightly at a distance.”

For lunch, Alan and I ate at THE CHEESECAKE FACTORY. I photographed two mallard ducks as we walked along locally.

Alan and I had a date with Susan (Alan’s ex-wife) and Jaan Torv (the brother of Anna Murdoch—who divorced billionaire Rupert Murdoch last year) at TOSCANA in Brentwood.

May 14, 2000

I captured some cute kids looking out via the pier. They reminded me of what the New Little Rascals could be.

I received three cool postcards today from Barbara Reynolds, Sandra Donald and MaryAnn Gehling:

Barbara describes a reflective, slightly rainy weekend in Northern California—watching an Iranian film, enjoying the rugged beauty of Point Reyes, reconnecting with friends, and rediscovering the joy of ice skating after many years. She used a Marin County, Pt. Reyes National Seashore postcard.

Barbara’s words were filled with small triumphs:

She saw the Iranian film “The Color of Paradise,” which she says allowed her to glimpse “the beautiful Iranian mountains.”

“Pt. Reyes was lovely… lots of flowers, a bit windy, but lucky to be there before the rain.”

She spent time with friends in Forestville after more than a year away.

A highlight: ice skating at the Charles Schulz ‘Charlie Brown’ rink in Santa Rosa. She hadn’t skated in about ten years but did surprisingly well and vowed not to wait so long next time.

She ended warmly: “Good to get home and have time to do some work on my place. Be well my friend.”

Sandra’s words were filled with gratitude; she used a BUBBY’s Restaurant postcard I had sent her from NYC:

It was a deeply affectionate Mother’s Day message expressing gratitude for my kindness and spiritual support.

“Thank you for your love, kindness & thoughtfulness.”

She acknowledges she didn’t receive a mother’s card from her son but chose not to dwell on it. She went to church and reminded herself “to lean on God & not man.”

“My thoughts were about you and I lift you up in prayer this day in a very special way.”

The emotional centerpiece were these six words that struck me heavily:
“I need you in my life.”

In my humble opinion, the secret of life (or one of them) is to say this to someone: "I need you in my life."

MaryAnn wrote from a cold, rainy day, sharing a quiet domestic scene while anticipating my visit to Colorado Springs this coming October 2000.

She included Easter photos including how she decorates the tree in her front yard, calling it the EASTER EGG TEE. I like how she wrote “It’s cold and rainy here. The wind is lashing the lilac bush against the study window.” I could picture it. Then she went on to add, “The sound reminds me of “one of our famous fights.” She admits they haven’t had a storm in a while—and she’s glad.

She is excited about seeing me: “Now I look forward to your visit.”

She made playful promises to finish arguments before I arrive, so I won’t have to listen to them once I arrive. I liked the humor, though a tad frightening.

For dinner we ate at LUCQUE’s in West Hollywood again because it’s so delish.

May 15, 2000

I’ve been reading THE RIPLEY novels by Patricia Highsmith. She’s such a great writer with regard to psychological chilling crime fiction. I need to read more from her. I learned something odd about her though. She kept hundreds of pet snails. She was fascinated by them. Jeepers Creepers! She liked them because they were quiet, self-sufficient and androgynous. Another thing about her (which revealed her lesbianism) was that she wrote a book, published in 1952 about two women falling in love and ending up together happily called THE PRICE OF SALT under a fake name: Claire Morgan. In 1990, she revealed it was she who wrote it. She adamantly said, “I don’t write crime novels. I write about people.” She was also an avid diary and notebook writer (sounds familiar: me!). I must admit, as a child I would play on the driveway and be fascinated by snails moving slowly and going inside their shells; however, there was no need to collect them. Yikes! Ugh!

May 16, 2000

Alan and I met with Charlie Russo, the insurance broker, again. He’s so knowledgeable about what’s best as far as the best insurance.

I met with my hair stylist, Aeesha, at the Westside Pavillion again. She knows about my Photo of the Day scheme, so she was a willing participant. This time I captured both of us. Lovely!

For dinner, it was more chattering with Jack and Gloria. Once again in West Hollywood at an Italian restaurant we love called PANE VINO. It was a Bon Voyage dinner for Jack and Gloria as they were departing on a cruise soon.

What did we talk about? Oh, besides their cruise it was the tech bubble and whether these Pets.com and Webvan companies were real businesses or just hype? There was a bit about George W Bush vs Al Gore, and we were all hoping for Al—even without Clinton on the ballot.

And everyone was whispering about some new show called SURVIVOR, with real people on an island—wondering which guest would survive the longest or poop out. Alan said to me, “With the mosquitoes, you wouldn’t last a day.”

“I like evenings best—when a portion of our chat was questionnaires. A drink and good company wipe out the worries of the morning and afternoon; hard facts give way to a happy feeling.” --Alan Hollinghurst, OUR EVENINGS

A Doorway

2026-05-03T00:30:00.000-07:00

He discovered the magic reminder: "keep living". --Richard Powers, ORFEO

May 3, 2000

During my walks to the beach, I often pass this Little Market. I never go inside, and I always wonder about the types who do enter. It must be the tourists because I know locals wouldn’t go in there. Would they?

I received a postcard from Cousin Sandra Donald in Pearl, Mississippi. I’m sure I sent her the postcard because she has no way of getting postcards like this in a penitentiary. Also, I loved this particular card so much. It depicts Saint Anne’s Church and Kew Garden somewhere in England, photographed by James Bartholomew. Sandra wrote:

Dear Cousin,

I am so thankful that you are feeling better these days.

It seemed like April was such a long month. I welcomed the month of May with a new attitude.

I have been reading some Christian books about how one can feel a sense of rejections at the loss of a parent and, of course, I thought about you! How we need to focus on one day at a time, keeping a new mind set, a positive clear mind and LORD how true it is. I can get so depressed sometimes I don’t want to eat, just sleep. It is not a good feeling but Thank God that he too went into the desert and wilderness, so we are not alone.

You and Alan seemed to be enjoying yourselves in the picture you sent. I appreciate hearing from you.

Love,

Sandy

I also wrote in My Time for Mom Journal tonight before bedtime:

11:40PM

Dear Mom, I had a photograph of us enlarged into an 8 x 10. Alan took the photo of ‘Me and you” in Florence, Italy next to the Arno River. I'm sure you remember the photo. Well, I had it put in a beautiful gold frame. I think I’ll bring it with me to the new loft in Tribeca, NYC. I wanted you to experience future visits to me in New York and now that won’t come to pass. Of course, it saddens me, but I feel a part of you in me. And that’s why you had me, isn’t it? You have left a legacy, and I am part of it.

I’m collecting TALENTED MR. RIPLEY memorabilia. I may have told you that already. It’s because it’s the last feature film we saw together on Christmas Day 1999. Hey, I just remembered taking you one Christmas to see SCHINDLER’S LIST and once to see FORREST GUMP and once to see THE TITANIC. It's funny how I always picked the Oscer Winning pictures. Well, THE TALENTED MR. RIPLEY didn’t win in 1999. It was AMERICAN BEAUTY which was also a good picture. I don’t think you saw that one, but you may be watching it now.

I just awoke from bed to light a candle and write you a few lines. I’m still thinking of you like I always do/did.

May 4, 2000

I woke up early and continued to write to mom again.

7:23AM

I just remembered that tomorrow is Cinco de Mayo. I had a flashback because I knew you were here at the same time last year visiting me in Los Angeles. Do you remember celebrating Cinco de Mayo at the Santa Monica restaurant called La Serenata de Garibaldi? There was a lady who was serenading the tables with her guitar. You asked her to play “Mi Vida Loca” by Ricky Martin. She said her daughter could do that. That was a fun night. You had such a good time laughing with me, Alan and Gloria.

I glanced at my 1999 calendar and saw a few other memories. You arrived on April 30, 1999, and we attended the L.A. Antiques Show at the Santa Monica Air Center. We saw the film Never Been Kissed on Sunday at the Royal Theater on May 1st. That evening we saw a play called Lulu. The name of the play is familiar.

On Sunday, May 2nd we went to Nate ’n Al’s for breakfast. You saw Larry King, Jeffrey Katzenberg (the K in DreamWorks SKG), and Lew Wasserman. You were always so nonchalant about those high society guys. I admired that about you. Hey, you were thrilled to see Goldie Hawn with her husband Kurt Russell. I’m glad you got a little thrill over one celebrity sighting while visiting me here in L.A. Kurt & Goldie were going to dinner at “Ivy at The Shore”, valeting their car in Santa Monica just as we had finished dinner at “Il Fornaio.”

While you were here in May 1999, we saw the Sean Connery, Catherine Zeta-Jones film Entrapment. That was good, huh?

On Monday, May 3rd, Alan & I took you & Gloria to the “Asia de Cuba” restaurant to discuss our Italy/Spain trip in Oct. ’99.

On Tuesday, May 4, 1999, we went for a Bel Air power breakfast at The Bel Air Hotel. I wish I could take you to the Belvedere Restaurant at The Peninsula Hotel now. You’d love that. I think you watched The Dangerous Beauty on video to get a peak of Venice, Italy — way back when.

You had a facial on May 5, 1999, and we had dinner at Spago Beverly Hills that night. I’m glad you came to dinner and spent time with me. On the last night you were here, we had dinner prepared by Gloria here at home.

You left on May 7th because I know you wanted to be in Alameda for Ashley’s 15th birthday, Holly’s baseball game and the movie Election in S.F. Now I’ll be going to Alameda for her Sweet 16. I hope she likes the painting.

In fact, I flew back with you to Alameda in 1999. I just realized I was with you on Mother’s Day in 1999. I went to The Joy Luck Banquet with Helen’s family. Then Alan flew in on Monday morning May 10th to help your TV and computer get situated with cable TV service & @Home Cable (for the computer). It was all a year ago that this was happening.

Life is worth living, Mom. It’s just difficult for me to feel your absence. Even as I do things, I feel pain. I know I’ll be healing for a long time to come as the pain moderates. I will gain confidence — eventually, I know. I will still be so proud that you have been my mother for 40 years.

As I hiked with Alan the other day, I got him to talk about you. He said he was angry about your medical care, and he was angry at you. It upset me that he was angry at you. Although, he said he was angry when his dad left him at age 16. He said it took 15 years for his anger to go away.

When I think of Dad — I can understand it more. In 1980 he had a mild heart attack, and the warning only changed his habits for a while. By August 1987, his cholesterol intake gave him another heart attack, this time fatal. I still wonder if his morphine dosage that he was given didn’t kill him. I guess I was angry with the system.

This time I feel angry about the way your doctors monitored you too late. It’s not your fault, Mom. I’m not angry at you. It was your time to go… to be with Dad, right?

Today, I called my dear friend Monical Small who is now living in the Carmel-Monterey area. We had a wonderful talk. I always enjoy speaking to her; though her marriage to some Christian guy in the Midwest seems to have fallen apart.

...and then a letter from Barbara Reynolds:

Barbara’s letter arrives like a long exhale — reflective, meandering, full of small observations that feel like a conversation carried across distance.

She thanks me for the New York photo and tells me she finally escaped the house for a drive through the Pennsylvania countryside. Early May had transformed the landscape: lush green fields, rows of apple trees, everything waking up again. The outing left her feeling renewed, even as she was battling an irritated throat and hoping a course of antibiotics would clear it.

Her thoughts wander easily between everyday life and the deeper questions that seem to hover in quiet moments. She mentions seeing the Australian film Titus, calling it a surprisingly gentle and powerful movie — one of the best she had seen in a while.

Then she tells me about a radio interview that caught her attention — a woman discussing a book called Lights Out, about the way modern life disrupts natural sleep patterns. The idea that humans might naturally sleep far longer in winter fascinates her. For a moment she half-imagined disappearing for a few months just to relearn how to live in a healthier rhythm.

But the most revealing moment in her letter comes quietly. She realizes that this is the first May in years when her vacation plans don’t include “David physically.” The realization startled her and brought a brief wave of sadness.

Still, the letter turns gently upward. A walk with friends, conversation, laughter — and for a few hours she felt something like love again.

“More shall be revealed,” she writes before signing off.

It’s my Birthday month so Alan and I dined at CRUSTACEAN tonight in Beverly Hills and they had an extraordinary pyramid Mont Blanc dessert for me. It was decadent.

May 5, 2000

This morning I called Sherri to get specifics about Dylan’s game. It’s at Rittler Park.

Besides work, Alan and I took an evening break to see UP AT THE VILLA at the Third Street Promenade. It was the film that Anne Bancroft was filming in Florence Italy when Alan was there with his girls last year. It was about a widow choosing a new husband and how it might not be her choice at all (starring Kristin Scott Thomas and Sean Penn). I loved the escape to Italy parts of it, too. I captured a photo in line at the box-office.

May 6, 2000

I flew to Oakland and rented a red FORD FOCUS. I took a photo of Ashley in the driver’s seat. It’s time to get her prepared now that she’s turning sixteen.

Holly, Ashley and I also went to mom and dad’s gravesite in Hayward, and I took a photo of Holly there.

I also snapped a photo of my nephew, Dylan, climbing a tree.

May 7, 2000

I took Ashley and Holly to San Francisco, and I photographed them browsing for books. I can spend hours in a bookstore or a library. We were at BORDERS BOOKSTORE in the Union Square area. It was busier than I expected.

...and I had forgotten to read my letter from Cousin Edna in Santa Fe, NM which I brought along with me and read before bedtime. These were the highlights:

The letter carried the steady warmth of someone who leads with faith and kindness.

Edna told me she thinks of me often and hopes I’m managing my grief by staying close to family — and especially close to God.

Her own life has been busy. She had just returned from Durango, Colorado, where the band The Malachi Group — with Rickie playing guitar — had been invited to perform for Cinco de Mayo celebrations in a small nearby community called Santa Rita. They ended up performing five times for different groups around the Durango area.

Back home, life has hardly slowed down. Edna has been substitute teaching, organizing science projects and karate demonstrations, and helping with field trips.

She writes the letter from the back seat of her car while Mike and Rickie browse plants inside a nursery — a quick note scribbled between errands before heading home.

Then the tone shifts to something deeper. Edna shares her belief that God gives each of us exactly the span of life we need to fulfill our purpose before calling us home. Even babies who die young, she believes, are simply called early while they are still “little angels.”

Before closing, she asks how my grandmother Genevieve is doing and suggests sending her flowers for Mother’s Day.

“Please take care of yourself,” she writes gently.

Love,
Edna

May 8, 2000

Today I took Ashley to the Department of Motor Vehicles. She’s not wasting time on her Driver's License. She’s a girl who gets things done.

I contacted Dianna Wyman, the real estate agent, about the most recent Open House.

I went through some basic steps with my brother, John, about the Charles Schwab website.

I went to visit my grandmother (mom’s mom).

It was Ashley’s big day. She’s Sweet 16. To think, fifty-five years ago on May 8, 1945, it was the end of World War II, Victory in Europe Day. Ashley was happy blowing out the candles of her Birthday Cake. I’m glad I was there.

As her gift, I gave her a replica painting by Pietro Antonio Rotari, an Italian, of “Young Woman Writing a Letter”, painted between 1755-1760. The original is at the Norton Simon Museum in Pasadena, CA. The painting reminded me of Ashley in another life, writing me a letter.

May 9, 2000

I went back to Los Angeles. I had a letter waiting for me from Cousin Marie-Antoinette and this basically summarizes what she had to share:

Marie-Antoinette begins her letter with an apology for taking so long to write, explaining that she wanted to set aside a proper moment for a “special cousin.”

Her letter quickly turns reflective. She tells me she believes the loved ones we’ve lost are still watching over us — and that their lives, and the memories they leave behind, continue long after they are gone.

A song from her childhood comes back to her: “Someone to Watch Over Me.” She remembers how popular it once was and how deeply people connected to its promise of quiet protection.

Growing up, she admits, death frightened and angered her. It felt unfair and impossible to understand. But over time — through reading the Bible and other spiritual books — her perspective changed.

Now she sees death differently: not as an ending, but as a doorway.

“A door into a new glorious life which our Lord has prepared for us.”

She writes about how in the evenings she works a graveyard shift at the hospital caring for babies. She closes by thanking me for all the love I’ve shown the family and offers a simple blessing: “God bless you, Michael.”

Then, in a small postscript that feels charmingly human after such a thoughtful letter:

“P.S. Excuse messy penmanship.”

By six o’clock that evening I was dining with Alan, Jack and Gloria at the FOUR SEASONS HOTEL in Beverly Hills at the new Thai/Malaysian restaurant there called WINDOWS (in the Garden Terrace) which was spearheaded by Chef Govind Armstrong. There’s no stopping me this month. It’s still my Birthday Month!

‘I had the invaluable knack of raising my left eyebrow all by itself.’--Alan Hollinghurst, OUR EVENINGS

"Circle of Life"

2026-04-26T00:30:00.000-07:00

‘The mind is a computer, so in the brief time it took him to make a step, a lot of probabilities and outcomes flowed through him.’--Harlan Coben, RUN AWAY

April 26, 2000

It was too nice a day to not go out to the beach once Alan returned home from his real estate obligations. I captured Alan reading his finance magazine. I had my book by Tony Parsons, called ‘man and boy’. Alan took a photo of me in my bathing suit that no one will ever see.

Later that afternoon I was in the mood to talk to mom, so I did:

Dear Mom,

Alan is at work. He had some business with his real estate, Ten West biz. I started to watch Passions… and then decided to go for a run. I bet you’d get a kick out of me watching Passions now. It’s mainly because of you!

Anyway, it happened again while I was running. The “Meet Virginia” song came on. I saw California Poppy flower flowers blooming along my pathway. It is definitely springtime. I felt sad because I remembered the many times I’d call you and say, “I just came from running.”

You used to say, “I don’t know how you can run in that HEAT.” And just think — it’s not even summertime yet. Ha-Ha.

I sure miss our phone calls and our plans to visit each other. We both got the most of California — from your visits here to Marina Del Rey, CA & mine to Alameda/Harbor Bay Isle.

Earlier today, Alan and I took our lounge chairs to the beach to do some reading. As we walked, I remembered a time when you and I walked to the beach and I had you sit to watch the waves with me. It was only for about twenty minutes that we sat there to talk — but it was a wonderful memory for me today.

Then while I was reading my book (called Man and Boy by the author Tony Parsons) I was startled by a screeching seagull. It felt like a sign of some sort… especially because I had just read a startling mishap at the end of chapter 16 in my book where a 4 year old boy had a very bad fall.

I wonder — were you watching over me, Mom? I’d like to think so. I miss you and love you so much.

By 7:30pm Alan and I were at the CINEPLEX in Century City to see the new movie, THE GLADIATOR. If anything, it makes one want to get in better physical shape. The movie was good and Russell Crowe and Joaquin were fantastic. It was about a Roman General who sets out for vengeance against the corrupt emperor who murdered his family and sent him into slavery.

April 27, 2000

I finished the book by Tony Parsons. Here’s my review:

A British best-seller…

B+ to this one! I found this book at an airport bookstore in London, England. It was a British bestseller at the time. I was intrigued by the title. It ended up reminding me how "lucky" I have been in my life. Life is unpredictable and we must be happy no matter what it takes. There was one event in the book that TOTALLY surprised me, catching me totally off-guard. That's a 'real find' in a book! This isn't a depressing book...it's a book about real-life, love and savoring the present moments filled with happiness.

One Interesting line for me was said by the lead character, Harry Silvers' father as he was dying:
"The worst thing about it", my father whispered in the darkness, "is knowing what you will be missing. I don't mean the things that haven't happened yet—Pat's wedding day, seeing you finally settle down—but the things that you take for granted. Seeing Pat ride his bike, telling him a story, kissing him goodnight. Watching him running around the garden with his bloody light sabre. All those small things that mean more than anything."

It was time to talk to mom through my writing once again:

Thursday, 4-27-2000
6:40 pm

Dear Mom,

It’s a little before 7pm & it’s still daylight. Springtime is here.

I got a cassette tape of select songs made for me by MaryAnn Montoya-Gehling & her daughter, Staci. She also sent me a couple of M-M cookies. It was sweet of her. She really does love me. I really felt it today from the package she sent.

She even sent “Hello From Heaven,” a book by Bill & Judy Guggenheim about ADC (After Death Communication).

I think I’ve been contacted by you because I see you in my dreams. I remember one dream speaking to you in your kitchen, asking why you had to die & leave? You said, “You didn’t know…” You implied that you couldn’t help it.

I’m beginning to believe the force was so very beautiful that you couldn’t resist it.

I saw a movie last night called The Gladiator. The star of the film, Russell Crowe, who played the Gladiator. He passed away at the end & I sensed his body rise & a door opened to beautiful light, whereas he saw his wife & son who had died. He was reunited with them.

I know when I die I will see you so clearly & it will feel so good. I will be happy to hear you laughing & smiling again. Of course, I’ll miss the friends & family I leave behind — but they’ll understand. They’ll probably mourn for a while & move on… and one day they will see me again. I guess it’s like a “Circle of Life.”

I’m thinking now that I wish I’d shared so much more with you while you were living. Then again, I’ve shared more with you than most people ever do, huh? I’m lucky… and your spirit is still living as I continue to write to you.

I feel bad for Princess Di’s sons because they were so young when they lost their mother.

I think Carrie Freiman was trying to make me feel better the other day when she said that her ex-boyfriend, Justin, went to a funeral of a co-worker who passed away in a fatal car accident. She was only 23 or so.

Thank you for being with me for over 40 wonderful years, Mom! I just wish I had 20 more. I guess the next 20 years we have together will have to be through my written words to you.

Alan is making Veggie Burgers… I just realized that we had Veggie Burgers the night you passed away. Oh great — now I’m going to think of that during every & any Veggie Burger now. Ha-Ha. At least I made you & me laugh just now. Ha-Ha.

I did abs today. I did “double abs” for yesterday & today with Alan. We also went to the gym — so I’m taking care of myself. I’m trying NOT to withdraw & be forlorn because I know you don’t want me to.

“Just be happy,” Virginia said.

I can’t help but hear you clearly saying those words, Mom. I’ll do my best. And I’ll do my best to share the 50% that I have of you with your grandchildren.

OK — the Veggie Burgers are ready now.

More later —

April 28, 2000

Paloma sent another email today. I’m starting to really like this instant gratification versus waiting sometimes five days or more to receive a letter from her in the South of France.

Paloma wrote after several busy days with a mix of frustration, humor, and curiosity about the world. She had just discovered that the residence where she and Alex had worked tirelessly for eleven years might be sold—something they learned not from their employers but from a newspaper advertisement. The revelation stung. For years they had essentially run the place themselves, often working around the clock without supervision, never missing a day and rarely taking holidays. Still, she tried to take the news philosophically, reminding herself that life eventually returns what one gives to it.

With a touch of playful irony, she joked that if I happened to have four million dollars lying around, I could simply buy the residence and become her boss.

Her message then wandered into the rhythms of everyday life and shared cultural references. She had recently watched the film A Simple Plan, describing the story of three men who discover a fortune in a crashed airplane and decide to keep it—a suspenseful tale she enjoyed because, like a film by Alfred Hitchcock, you never know what will happen until the very end. The movie starred Billy Bob Thornton, Bridget Fonda, and Bill Paxton.

She also mentioned dreaming of the Seychelles after hearing about the islands from friends who had lived nearby in Réunion and Mauritius. Cruises, however, were not for her—boats make her sick—so the idea of being at sea reminded her instead of the unsettling cruise ship drama in Bitter Moon by Roman Polanski.

At one point she reflected on nostalgia, wondering whether it was really the Spanish town of Moraira she missed—or simply the younger girl she once was when she lived there.

Her email also carried bits of travel advice and family anecdotes. If I ever visited Orlando, she recommended trying the elevator ride at the old Disney–MGM Studios—an attraction she found surprisingly funny. She mentioned her son, Jonathan, returning from London who had stayed at a Novotel near Big Ben and complained that the city had “nothing—not even a McDonald’s,” a remark that made them laugh and perfectly captured the perspective of a child traveling abroad for the first time.

She closed warmly, asking about my family—John’s daughters, Tony’s children—and promised to answer my letter again soon. “More later,” she wrote. Love, Paloma

I spotted a billboard for the film, FREQUENCY, and photographed it. Coincidentally, Alan and I had just screened the film that evening. I’m surprised the movie has not received many accolades as I found it a fascinating time travel mystery of suspense. It starred Dennis Quaid and Jim Caviezel; whereby, there was an accidental cross-time radio link that connected father and son across thirty years. The son tries to save his father’s life but then must fix the consequences. Imagining how you can change things by going back in time was very much ‘for me’ right now.

April 29, 2000

Alan and I took a hike, and I stumbled on the most miraculous sighting. It was just two cacti. The wild thing about it was the carving of MOM on one cactus and the cactus right above it was carved MIKE. I couldn’t get over it. Of course, that became my Photo of the Day.

April 30, 2000

The day felt of gloom, so Alan and I went to see an early movie called GOSSIP. It was about three college students who base their class project around gossip and how fast it can spread. Suddenly, it spirals out of control which made for a suspenseful psychological thriller—just what grabs my attention. On the way back home, I spotted a cool billboard ad of the EVIAN MERMAID on Lincoln Boulevard in Santa Monica.

It's time to talk to mom:

April 30, 2000
6:55 pm

Dear Mom,

Yesterday Alan & I went for a hike in The Palisades. I saw a cactus tree the other day & I wanted to take a photograph of it because it was sprouting these bright green baby cactus.

As I positioned my camera I noticed a lot of the cactus had engraved names & initials. Then I saw MOM on one of the cactus. And then next to the MOM was a MIKE on another cactus. It felt like a sign from you. It was one of my “Photos of the Day.”

It’s not even 7pm & the birds are chirping outside as the sun is starting to go down. I’d imagine you watering your lawn now. I’m feeling an anguish that your lawn is not being taken care of like you used to do.

I hope you don’t feel bad that we are selling the house. It is simply a house now. It was your beautiful home — but without you it is just a house now.

I’m sure you understand.

It looks like it will sell for $385,000. We had asked $395,000 but reduced it by 10 grand.

May 1, 2000

My Birthday ‘month’ begins. I took a photo of Alan and I. We celebrated dinner at THE FARM in Beverly Hills, not a fancy place but good enough food.

Paloma sent another email...and this message arrived with a tone that was both thoughtful and restless. She admitted she had been disappointed by something we had discussed, though she tried to brush it off with a bit of Spanish humor— “no hay mal que por bien no venga”—no bad thing without some good coming from it. Still, she confessed that her work had become complicated emotionally. Some days she loved what she was doing; other days she hated it so much she could hardly imagine continuing. The situation would be easier, she said, if she worked for someone she respected. As it stood, the owners paid dearly for the building but treated the people running it as if they were worth very little.

Yet her mind was already turning toward possibility.

Living in the spa town of Balaruc, she noticed how many doctors passed through the area—and how often their offices seemed disorganized. Phones rang unanswered; mail piled up while they were away with patients. A small idea began forming in her mind: what if she handled the calls and correspondence for several of them? Perhaps ten or fifteen doctors could each pay a modest monthly fee for someone reliable to answer phones and organize appointments. She imagined starting small, even offering the first month free just to prove it could work. More than the money, she said, she liked the idea of building something herself—of having “something to fight for.”

Life around her, meanwhile, continued to bring its small curiosity. Her brother, Edouard, had arrived with a friendly woman named Yvonne who dreamed of opening a nudist resort in New Mexico. Yvonne had already bought land—half a square mile of canyon country—and spoke of the project as if it were certain to exist within two years. The conversation made Paloma laugh, especially as she practiced her English describing it.

She teased me about films as well, conceding that I might be almost as knowledgeable about movies as she was. We had recently been discussing the Roman Polanski film Bitter Moon, starring Peter Coyote and Emmanuelle Seigner alongside Kristin Scott Thomas. Paloma explained the clever French wordplay in the title: “lune de miel” means honeymoon, while “fiel” means bitterness—a love story turning sour.

The note ended on a lighter domestic moment. Yvonne was preparing cheesecake that evening, proudly announcing it would be made the American way. She had even brought ingredients from the United States—graham crackers and sour cream—though Paloma suspected she might still prefer a true New York version.

Before signing off, she added a simple line that carried the weight of the entire correspondence: “I miss you much.”

Love, Paloma

May 2, 2000

It’s my second day of my birthday ‘month’. Should I take another photo of myself. Ha-ha...I did. This time it was me in the backyard. How boring but it’s not easy to decide what to photograph each day, so give me a break.

My cousin MaryAnn in Colorado Springs sent a few Easter dinner photos with her grandson, Tanner, waving. In one she was holding an Easter 2000 gift that her grandkids gave her, pointing out her Easter village and tree that she had decorated on her mantel. She also sent a postcard of strange dude who happened to be General William Jackson Palmer, a Civil War hero and visionary builder who founded the city of Colorado Springs and the Denver and Rio Grande Railway. She’s a history buff. On this card, she wrote:

Michael,

Thought you would like a photo of General Palmer since I mention hi often. Notice pink rose stamps on my envelope I talked about it in the SBTS-Story Behind the Story. I made roses like that in cake decoration. These are the first photos to get developed. There are more coming as soon as they are done processing them. I hope you like them.

Love you always, MaryAnn

“None of us may want to claim to live life in two parallel lanes but all have many lives, one tucked beneath or right alongside the other.” --Andre Aciman, FIND ME

Return To Me

2026-04-19T00:30:00.000-07:00

‘She had never known someone who loved to wander so much, and who was so captivated by the ordinary beauty of the landscape.’--Yuan Yang, PRIVATE REVOLUTIONS

Snow Photo by: Jesper Gotzsche, Viborg, Denmark

In April 2000 I was discovering something that now seems ordinary but then felt almost miraculous: the ability to exchange letters instantly across the Atlantic.

Paloma and I had already been writing by post, but suddenly our conversations were happening daily through Hotmail—long, thoughtful messages that read more like letters than what we now call “emails.”

She wrote from the south of France, often describing the small rhythms of her life. Some mornings she would sit on her terrace overlooking the Mediterranean, reading in the sun and watching the sea. She joked that she could tan for hours while Alexandre burned instantly. I could almost picture it: the bright light, the quiet, the salt air.

Our messages wander everywhere, the way real conversations do.

We talked about travel—Jonathan riding the Eurostar under the English Channel to London, a trip that still felt futuristic at the time. We talked about movies, Legoland, and childhood things that Jonathan loved. She mentioned how strange it felt that Paris to London was only thirty minutes beneath the sea.

But just as often the emails turned reflective.

Paloma told me she had found a diary she wrote when she was fourteen and wondered whether anyone should ever read the private thoughts of a younger self. That idea resonated with me—because I too kept journals and understood how personal those pages can be.

There were also ordinary family stories that make letters feel alive: her brother Edouard visiting from Albuquerque, complicated relationships among friends and lovers, and the everyday dramas of family life. Through those details I glimpsed a whole world—people I had never met but somehow came to know.

What strikes me now, rereading these messages twenty-five years later, is how sincere communication was. Nothing rushed. Nothing is abbreviated. Each message felt like sitting down to write a real letter.

She once wrote something that captures the spirit of that exchange perfectly:

“I find it important to communicate… it’s probably why we enjoy writing to each other so much.”

And she was right.

In that moment around the year 2000, before social media and texting took over, email was still a kind of digital letter writing—thoughtful, reflective, and surprisingly intimate.

Those conversations with Paloma remind me that sometimes the most meaningful connections are built not through grand events, but through the quiet sharing of everyday life.

April 19, 2000

I received a card from Cousin MaryAnn Gehling in Colorado Springs. She is making a quilt for me, but the note was rather funny. I had been sending her pieces of fabrics from my travels, too.

Dear Michael,

Do you remember the movie “Honey, I Shrunk the Kids”? Well, honey, I shrunk the quilt.

MaryAnn

My niece, Ashley, also sent a couple of postcards:

Postcard #1:

Hey Tio!

Remember this show? The two people on the right are together in real life.

Well, I wanted to ask you a question. Remember when we went to that Holocaust Museum? Well, we’re learning about the Holocaust in History class. What museum was it? And where was it? E-mail me.

Ashley

Postcard #2:

Hey Tio!

I found a bundle of postcards, so I figured I’d send this card cuz I’m watching BUFFY.

Anyways, I found out I’m arachnophobic. I found a FAT one in my room and ugh! I hate spiders so much.

We watched SCHINDLER’s LIST in school, but I saw it before. We saw it sophomore year in KOFFMAN. TEEN PEOPLE has a book club now. He-he. You know I'm a member. Well, I’m going to be. Did you hear Brittney Spear’s new song, OOPS I DID IT AGAIN? It’s ok, I guess, but her voice is hella voguey. Well, running out of space.

Love, Ashley

It was PASSOVER 2000 and we had a group photo done (minus me, because I was the photographer).

The surprise guests besides Jack, Gloria and Carrie were Herb Braha and girlfriend, Carol Velkes.

April 20, 2000

The earnings for MICROSOFT came out today. They always have good earnings but it’s never good enough. Ironic.

I spotted a surfer, completing his surf today. It became my Photo of the Day, today, April 20, 2000. I sometimes wonder about surfers (or even strangers that I see at a cafe). For example, what does this surfer do in his regular life? Is it his day off? Does he wish he had a boyfriend (or a girlfriend)? What are his dreams?

Alan and I saw a movie at the theater today called KEEPING THE FAITH. It was a romantic comedy about two friends (played by Ben Stiller and Edward Norton). Stiller became a rabbi and Norton became a priest. They both fall in love with the same woman they knew in their youth—but the religious position of both men denies them romance. The priest cannot break his vow of celibacy, and the rabbi cannot marry her since she is not Jewish. It was wild, but it was good. I loved it and I loved this line from the film:

“Sometimes we don’t know we’ve crossed a line until we’re already on the other side.”

April 21, 2000

Alan and I drove to the FARMER’s MARKET on Fairfax in West Hollywood, and we were bad boys because we had chocolate raised donuts with coffee there. I loved driving down Hillcrest Road in Beverly Hills. The palm trees on that street are so grand, and it’s often featured in films and music videos.

This Friday night, Alan and I escaped to see another film. This time it was THE VIRGIN SUICIDES. The title sounds grim, I know. It was about a group of male friends who were obsessed with five mysterious sisters. The neighborhood boys narrate the story, and it takes place in the 1970s. One of the sisters’ suicide attempt and the effects on their family in a suburban town are highlighted. It was an unusual psychological drama, but I don’t need to see it again. Kirsten Dunst was one of the sisters (I like her). And Josh Harnett was one of the neighbors (I like him).

April 22, 2000

I took a photo of our dogs: PUFFY, KING, and FIFI. I love them because they’re low maintenance and they never poop.

A 1999 movie, a late one via videocassette at home, was chosen tonight called THE BIG KAHUNA. This phrase (THE BIG KAHUNA) has a cultural connection to surfing and the Hawaiian beach culture, but the meaning has evolved over time. KAHUNA (a Hawaiian word) used to refer to an expert, priest or a master in a particular craft. In the 1950s and 1960s there was a famous Waikiki surfer that was jokingly referred to as THE BIG KAHUNA—but this movie wasn’t about surfers at all. Instead, three sales representatives attend a trade show in the American Midwest to sell industrial lubricants. They hope to meet a business executive that is referred to as THE BIG KAHUNA, and the comedy drama goes from there. Kevin Spacey and Danny DeVito were in the film along with this Italian handsome newcomer I’d never seen before: Peter Facinelli.

April 23, 2000

Alan and I took a walk along the Marina, and the reflections made me reflect on mom again, so I wrote to her in my private journal to her. I needed to talk to her again. So, here is how it went:

4-23-2000 — 6:32am
Easter Sunday

Dear Mom,

It’s Easter Sunday and I’m at St. Monica’s Church in Santa Monica, CA. I felt a need to be here today. I came alone. I can’t imagine Alan in a church. I’ll never let you go. This is “my own” time to pray for you (and Dad).

A couple of days ago, you made me cry. I wrote the following in one of Ashley’s forthcoming 16th birthday card:

May 8, 2000

Dear Ashley,

I know your Grandma Virginia would have loved the opportunity to buy these NSYNC concert tickets for your 16th Birthday. And so, I’m doing it for her. If she were alive today here is what I think she’d say:

Love,
Uncle Mike

Happy Birthday, Ashley!

Sweet 16 — Never Been Kissed (like your movie “Never Been Kissed” starring Drew Barrymore).

I’m so proud of my granddaughter. You are very special to me. You made me laugh and you made me cry; you’re the daughter I always wanted.

Now — enjoy seeing LANCE of NSYNC (again!). I’ll be with you.

Love Always,
Grandma Virginia
Love Never Dies

(Then I cried… looking at a photo of you and Ashley.)

Did I get it right, Mom?

7:50am: I’m home. The mass is over.

The Monsignor said:

“We are born out of Love —
We die into love —
and we must, in-between — Trust Love.”

I liked that.

Tonight, Alan and I watched a film called RETURN TO ME. How fitting that I chose such a title. Alas, this was another romantic comedy starring David Duchovny and Minne Driver. A man (David) falls in love with the woman (Minnie) who received his wife’s heart via a transplant and must decide which woman it is who holds his heart. Now, that’s a wild premise.

April 24, 2000

I continued the next morning, writing to mom and included a postcard of “Le Sirenuse, Positano, Italy”, where we stayed in October 1999.

4-24-2000 — 6:30pm

Dear Mom,

Do you remember the place above? We were just there in October 1999. On Oct 13, 14 & 15th to be exact.

I remember when you looked out the balcony & said,

“Isn’t it beau-ti-ful.”

I can almost hear the words now.

I’m glad I got you to experience the beauty of it all. Who knows — you’re probably in a much more beautiful place now.

I was thinking about the story the Monsignor told during Easter Sunday mass yesterday. He said there was a woman who learned she only had three months left to live. She went to the parish to make her funeral arrangements. She told the pastor that she wanted a fork in her hand as she lay in her casket during her memorial service.

The pastor asked, “Why a fork?”

And she said, “During all the church potluck dinners and festivities for fundraisers and benefits, I was always told to ‘keep your fork’! And so, I always kept my fork in anticipation of the BEST dessert that was coming.,” she continued, “This way, during my memorial service, when people see the fork in my hand they’ll be reminded that something BETTER is coming.”

Mom, I remember your first cousin, Marie-Antoinette, telling me that you are in ‘a BETTER place’. I think you know I miss you. I think you knew—if you ever passed away, like Dad, I’d miss you so very much. Well, you’re right, mom. I miss knowing that I can call you almost at any given moment and find you home. You were my security. I could always count on you being there. Oh, listen to me, rambling on her. I can't do this to myself. I CAN COUNT ON YOU—even now. I’m writing to you NOW. And I’ll be with you one day. Somehow, dying doesn't’ seem so bad because we die into love and I know I’ll be seeing you. If anyone is mourning for me—they should be happy because I will have found you again.

April 24, 2000

My Photo of the Day was of me with the Super Bowl Teddy Bear, sitting on the sofa that felt like clouds. Alan took this photo of me before we left for the movies.

Yes, Tonight was movie night yet again. This time it was THE SKULLS, this time a psychological thriller starring Joshua Jackson and Paul Walker. A senior at an Ivey league college who depends on scholarships and work on the side gets accepted into a secret society known as THE SKULLS. It was kind of creepy with crime intertwined. It surely got my mind off things. I hope I sleep well.

April 25, 2000

I noticed the beautiful blooming of the Birds of Paradise flower in front of our house today. I also liked the beautiful words from a card my Cousin MaryAnn Gehling sent today. It was a tad haunting as she spoke of her brother, Dave, who died during the Vietnam War—but she still talks to him:

Michael,

I just realized I’m writing you an actual letter—pink ink, pink envelopes, sealed in the old-fashioned way. Somehow that feels right.

I talked to you briefly about the creeping phlox story. It was fun to hear your reaction immediately instead of waiting weeks to hear what you thought. Dave says the reason he wanted you and me to share that story is so we could see what he tells each of us. He wants us to know that he’s guiding us. He doesn’t want us to doubt it.

He reminds me that we have a destiny together—something different from simply being cousins. This is the second time he’s mentioned the mysterious destiny, so the creeping phlox feels like a sign from Dave.

When you open this box, you’ll see why it took me so long to reply to your email. I read the book I’m sending you—it took a while—but it’s the one I promised. My mother-in-law read it first and passed it on to me. I couldn’t resist commenting in pencil in the margins and underlining parts I loved. I’m curious about what you think of it.

And yes—there are two cassette tapes inside. After I got your last tape, I decided to play around and make one of my own. I even made a little cover for the case, so it would look somewhat professional—though I’m sure it doesn’t quite succeed. I posed for the cover photo as if I lived in the 1920s… a bit of a provocateur for that era.

I couldn’t send my music without explaining why I love these songs. I meant to write a mini book about it, but it still took days to finish.

You may wonder what the other tape is. It’s from my daughter, Staci. She happened to be here when your tape arrived, and she rolled her eyes at the flair and drama of it—but she thought it was funny. She recently started a book club with friends, and they meet once a month. About two weeks after your tape came, she showed up with a tape she’d made for you. It’s some of her favorites.

I’m not sure if that’s funny or just proof that she notices everything we do—she can’t admit we have good ideas.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the tapes. She’s been urging me to send them along. I’ve listened to them twice already.

Well, Michael, it’s time for me to wrap this up and go to the post office.

Love you lots,
MaryAnn — aka “Treezy”

P.S. A hibiscus from my pink lavender creeping phlox.

...a couple of days later I had Alan photograph me—to send to MaryAnn---holding one of MaryAnn’s M&M Cookies with creeping phlox blooming in my own neighborhood. I had never known what creeping phlox was until MaryAnn filled me in. Now I see the beauty of it. The pretty of pink.

Surfer

I once met a surfer on the shore

Lithe and lure to the core.

A brazen, blond man,
With a bronze tan.

Watch him glide and ride a wave,
The thrill of the ocean share the crave.

Lean and handsome human machine,
Movie magic, all-American clean.

One wonders of his exhilarating zest,
He’s already splashing refusing to rest.

Wet and dripping across the shoreline
Imagine him dining with Bordeaux wine.

Wonders never cease for lovers of the beach,

They are rarely within one’s reach.

Shower the sand from his feet,

With one look your eyes meet.

It’s fun to watch and check him out

You’d almost expect him to go ’n shout.

Between two cars he removes the wet suit
Holding your fruit you’re ready to shoot. --Michael Joe Armijo, 12/16/2000

A Great Void

2026-04-12T00:30:00.000-07:00

Torment

A teacher torments with a pop quiz

Hair stands on end… in a frizz

Tis painful when hurt with a thorn

It’s a rose we need or a newborn

Sensitive to all that’s harsh and hard
Take a pen and write a card
To be abrupt, loud to argue
Accommodate, negotiate is all I ask you

Life is never simple or easy
Your inner soul and stomach feel queasy
Where to go – which way to turn
Options seem nil – like a burn

Why would one yearn to torment me?
If not you – who then, you see?
A loss of strength is all that’s here
Don’t run in haste and grab your gear

Silence and sunshine felt on my face
From a rapid pace and vicious race
Return with arms outstretched and open
Embracing with love is all we’re hopin’.

by Michael Joe Armijo, 12-16, 2000

April 12, 2000

The flight from London to JFK-New York was swift. Before long Alan and I were fine dining at Lespinasse in the St. Regis Hotel. This restaurant opened around 1990 with the executive chef, Gray Kunz (Swiss born chef born in Singapore), but he left the restaurant in 1998 to pursue other gourmand dreams. Our chef on this night was the French chef named Christian Delouvrier. The legendary King Cole Bar with the Maxfield Parris mural was the place that invented the Bloody Mary (but they call it the Red Snapper there).

April 13, 2000

Alan and I walked around the city, and we love the people one can watch around Columbus Circle. Sitting there at the corner of Central Park you can see people passing by from All-Over-the-World. It’s as if you don’t have to travel because all the globe is passing you in front of your eyes.

On this day we went to see Annabelle Schechter, the real estate agent handling the sales for the loft we are buying at 66 Leonard Street in Tribeca, NYC. We took a walk through and saw the status.

Later that night we dined late (9:15PM) at Guastavino’s (named after a Spanish architect Rafael Guastavino) that is directly under the 59th Street (Queensboro) Bridge. The place was situated inside the Conran Shop (a British designed furniture store). The dining room had these huge cathedral vaulted tile ceilings and multiple levels. What a space!

April 14, 2000

Alan got a new haircut, and it looked very much like an Elian Gonzalez haircut. In case you don’t know, Elian is the six-year-old boy who was at the center of a high-profile international custody dispute between members of his family that also involved Cuba and the USA. It was a dramatic story because Elian, his mother and her partner fled Cuba by boat as part of a group of refugees attempting to reach the USA. The boat sank and Elian’s mother, along with most of the passengers, drowned. Elian was found floating on an inner tube and rescued by two fishermen who turned him over to the US Coast Guard.

We walked and I fell in love with the copy of a billboard which read “RETURN YOUR MIND TO IT’S UPRIGHT POSITION”. We also walked by NASDAQ headquarters, feeling the pulse of business.

To round off the night we saw a Christian Bale film called AMERICAN PSYCHO. I loved the opening scene when he did his morning fitness and grooming routine. I wanted to carbon copy it---but not his life. What a creeper! He literally was a psycho.

April 15, 2000

Alan was on Fifth Avenue as we still had the morning and day to enjoy New York. Our flight left at 8pm for Los Angeles, arriving at about 11pm—just in time for bed. I had mail waiting for me. I managed to read a few pieces before bedtime:

From my cousin, Laura Whithorn, in Denver, Colorado:

Hi Michael,

Just sending you a postcard to remind you how cool Colorado is and that you should plan a visit soon.

Love, Laura

From my cousin Shawn West and wife, Reina in Castro Valley, CA:

Michael,

We are very happy with the new addition: “Brandon Tyler” to our family. We hope you will meet with him soon. Thank You for the adorable stroller blanket and the toddler learning book and CD. We hope all is well with you and look forward to the next time you’re in town.

Love, Shawn, Reina, Dana and Brandon

From my niece, Leigh Erin Armijo:

Dear Uncle Mike and Alan,

I love the stationery you sent, it’s great! I can’t wait to read the book. It looks really good and I bet it will be interesting. The duck with the bath stuff is so cute, and I will have to read about New York, about history and all the interesting sites. I can’t wait to see you in July when we go to New York. I bet it’s going to be really fun!

I miss you so much and wish we could see each other more often. Thank you so much for all my gifts. I love them all.

Love, Leigh

P.S. Mom and Lauren miss you very much and love you very much.

April 16, 2000

My other bits of correspondence were from Patty Richfield (cousin in Philadelphia), Sandra Donald (cousin in Pearl, Mississippi), and Marie Antoinette (cousin in Pueblo, Colorado). They were more follow-ups with endearing words about how I am doing. Marie-Antoinette wrote:

“I know there’s a great void in your life right now, but I pray that it’s filled with lots of joy and happiness during this Easter time and always”.

The part about ‘A Great Void’ really clinched the aura of my days right now. I keep it quiet, but I do feel ‘A Great Void’.

I took some time to write back to Paloma because I loved her last letter which included such beautiful sympathetic words. I chose a loving Panda Bear card for her. Paloma's Moraira childhood memories of that small seaside town in Spain’s Costa Blanca within the Valencia region sounds like a must-go kind of place.

Oh! Paloma,

It’s Sunday night and I’m writing to you as I watch the classic movie “THE TEN COMMANDMENTS” which is on TV right now.

You expressed yourself very well in sorting out the things you wanted to tell me. I appreciate every word you wrote. This is a difficult time for me. I still think of my mom. I’ve had dreams where I have spoken to her. Sometimes I just can’t believe it. She’s watching over me with a smile, and she’d want my life to go on as happily as I can make it. And so, I’m trying. Your most recent card helped me. And—even if you’re not here with me—you are (indirectly) crying with me and hugging me, and that certainly makes me feel good.

Moraira sounds like a special place. I’d like to go there one day. Didn’t you visit a French Island off the coast of Africa once called the Seychelle Islands [or something]? You described it with WHITE soft sand. It would make an ideal tropical vacation. Perhaps a cruise around the Greek Islands. Have you ever been on a cruise? I have not—but I think a nice one around the Greek Islands would be beautiful, I guess nothing can compare to Moraira though, huh? You were probably the cutest little girl growing up there by the sea.

You love the same movies as I do. I loved “THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION”. I’d like to see that one again.

Congratulations on your new place in Sète, France. I think you made the right decision. It’s good for Jonathan to stay in the best schools and be around his friends. He’ll be undergoing an adjustment if that was taken from him. You are such a good mom. Art, vacations, family and memories are more important than the big luxurious houses, etc. You made me laugh about meeting in Vegas before we turn 70. Wouldn’t it be fun if we (just you + I) could go on a vacation. I would love that. I guess Alex + Alan wouldn’t be too thrilled—huh!? Oh well—I can wish sometimes—can’t I?

Lauren is studying Italian and Humanities in Florence, Italy, but she has been accepted to NYU’s Stern Business School starting in Sept. 2000. We had a great time seeing her. It seemed like we were gone a month, but it was only two weeks.

We had fun shopping in Milan at these discount outlets and at a PRADA outlet in a town about an hour out of Florence. I bought a cool PRADA suit. I’ll send you a photo as soon as I get the pictures developed.

That's cool that Jonathan will or may go to England. That will be a great experience for him.

I’d love for you and Alexandre to visit Alan and I at the loft in New York. You know you are both welcome to stay for a few nights. We have a spare bedroom and a sofa bed. Of course, now they say the loft won’t be ready until mid-June — so we are figuring mid-July. We’ll see.

I’m so impressed that you caught the Jean-Georges Vongerichten restaurants on French TV. I had breakfast at the Mercer Kitchen in Soho once.

Alan and I just returned from Italy and New York last night. We’re both kind of tired and we have a busy week ahead of us. I had so much mail when I got home.

So—how are you doing on the computer? I haven’t received an e-mail from you.
I got your new email address, so I’ll try it + see how quickly you respond! Well—until the next letter. Thinking of You,
Love Always,
Michael J. Armijo

For dinner, Alan and I went to LUCQUE’s in West Hollywood with Carrie, Gloria and Jack. It was quite a treat of togetherness.

April 17, 2000

I had a 10AM dental appointment for a temporary crown. I hate that but it’s for the common good of my mouth.

On a good note, Ferne Marshall Theis, sent me a check for $250 for her financial consultation. I guess that pays for part of my dental work.

Alan surprised me with a beautiful write-up in anticipation of our Anniversary (the 20th of each month) on April 20th. He wrote it in two parts (on April 14th and 15th) and he gave it to me early. I needed it:

April 14th

Dear Michael—

Well, it has truly been an exciting vacation in so many ways. Who would have ever guessed what happened today in NY as we stood outside the NASDAQ at 4:45? We have been through so much together over the years, and we get stronger. I feel that we now have shared the upside and downside of all facets of life. We love each other through it all. So now we must continue to enjoy each other whether over a bagel and tuna at the Chelsea Market or at L’Espresso at the St. Regis.

Thanks for being so loving to Lauren all the time. She loves you so much and needs your perspective.

In life, thanks for staying accurate to some love commitments. We have to value these relationships, not NASDAQ. These are all on paper—our love is not. Of course, upside doesn’t hurt—

Don’t forget we finally met someone at 66 Leonard who owns the plane flying over Manhattan. I can’t wait until the loft is finished, maybe by then we can afford a Bentley.

Again—a great vacation here to always remember, now it’s time to vacation in sunny California.

Love You,

Alan

April 15th

So, what do we do next? Well, we eat veggie burgers, go running, work-out, go hiking—re-evaluating all our portfolios, continue to be happy, enjoy every day. It seems that we now can’t leave the country, so let’s stay home for a while, and watch the market recover.

I did enjoy peering through the Nasdaq glass at Tim Costello on yesterday’s historic collapse.

I also enjoyed our walks at Chelsea Market but next time let’s stick with movies in Los Angeles and shows in New York.

I love you, Alan

Happy Anniversary”

You see the only real importance is to have each other and be happy and healthy. Of course, riches are nice to have too, so let the market go up again. After a trip like we have had plus three movies we should be very thankful for our good times and realize the strong bond we have for each other. As the years pass, every day is a celebration whether the markets move up or down as long as I’m with you.

Alan’s words were so tender, written during the NASDAQ crash of April 2000, standing outside of NASDAQ in NY, focusing on love over money. I love that he wrote this line:

“Every day is a celebration whether the markets move up or down as long as I’m with you.”

Alan's 'Elian Gonzalez' haircut is still holding up and I keep teasing him about it. The new TIME magazine arrived and I made him pose with it as mini memory.

Now to share what I wrote to my mother while in the UK and Europe. I think I will aptly title it...

The Great Void

London, England – 4am @ Brown’s Hotel

April 1, 2000

Dear Mom,

It’s time. It’s been a little over 2½ months now since you passed away on January 24, 2000. So, what a better place than London to continue my communication with you. I know how much you loved London when you traveled here all by yourself to stay in Knightsbridge at the flat that Gloria & Jack Cohen leased. It was a little after Princess Diana passed away that you were here.

I awoke at 3am here at The Brown’s Hotel in the Mayfair/Piccadilly area. I was thinking about our last conversation together around 8pm on Jan. 24, 2000.

“You sound a little nasal. Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked.

Do you remember when I asked you that? You seemed to hesitate for a moment but then reassured me that you were fine. I sensed that you may have been keeping something from me. I knew you had a follow-up doctor appointment on February 1st, so I didn’t pursue the topic. However, now when I look back, I think you knew something was wrong. You yourself weren’t sure of ‘the seriousness’.

I’m positive about that. Isn’t that correct? You wanted to live. I know you did because you managed to call 911.

Well, it happened. Due to the mysterious and powerful source, you ultimately reunited with Dad. Now I must accept this and adjust accordingly.

It’s hard, Mom. It’s because I miss you so much. I miss our daily talks that we used to have. Sometimes we’d call each other 2, 3 or 4 times a day. You were and will always be my best friend. You have been my strongest bond since the day I was born on May 26, 1959.

Brussels, Belgium Airport – Noon
April 1, 2000

Dear Mom,

I’m almost finished reading the book I bought you called “Baby Love.” You know the book about the twin redheads. I’m in the epilogue portion so I’ll be finished soon. I’ve been reading it during my airtime. You were right; the book is good.

You probably remember that I told you Alan & I were traveling to Florence, Italy to see Lauren during her N.Y.U. semester there. To think—I was with you in Florence in October 1999. I will have the photo of us by the Arno River enlarged and framed.

Alan is in line waiting to get a Hertz Rent-A-Car. Coincidentally, the music playing here at the airport is the main tune from the movie “Ghost.” I watched that film about two weeks or so after you passed away. Is this song a sign from you?

The tune says, “I Need Your Love…” I do, Mom. I need your love — but love never dies — so I know I have your love. The question is how do I live without you?

I was reminded by Mary Ann Gehling (Dad’s first cousin on the Garcia side) that love never dies. Love is forever. That’s very comforting to me.

Mother’s Day is celebrated in London tomorrow, April 2nd. It was tough to see all of those Mother’s Day reminder signs all over London. In May, I plan to still buy you a Mother’s Day card when it’s celebrated in the USA.

I still need you at significant times, so I’ll keep writing to you as long as I have to.

I also read “One True Thing.” That’s the other book I bought that you also really liked. I’m glad I read it. Reading things you’ve read brings me closer to you during those many minutes that I couldn’t be with you while you were living.

I enjoyed watching one of your taped videos recently also. It was “The Secret Life of Doris Duke,” starring Lauren Bacall. It was very well done. Alan and I watched it, but we didn’t like the way the main butler and her adopted daughter treated her. Alas, such is life. It’s full of ups and downs, isn’t it? Doris Duke seemed to have more downs in the movie. I hope one day they make a film showing the very positive days of her life. I’m sure she had many “up” days.

Mom, I miss you. You know that. You knew I would.

I e-mailed Mary Ann that being in London makes me think of how I’d travel and see things or experience things and tell her about them by phone or postcard or letter. I’d also think to myself that I’d share similar experiences with you.

I know we did a lot together, but I always felt we had more time. It’s like I used to tell you:

“You never know when it’s your turn. I could go before you.”

8pm – Amsterdam @ The Amstel Intercontinental Hotel

A part of me is happy that I survived you. I know you would have been devastated if I had passed away before you. I suppose it’s logic that a parent would pass away before a child — although when it happens, “WHAM + OUCH.”

I wish I could have brought you to Amsterdam, Mom. You could be laughing at me right now because you can probably see the entire universe wherever you are.

I saw a sculpture at the Van Gogh Museum today of a nine-year-old girl. It was a bust of her head, and her name was Marie (as in “Virginia Marie” — your name). When these things happen, I feel like you’re giving me a message. Perhaps you are. I like the idea of knowing you are. I also like knowing that 50% of me is you.

Alan & I are going to dinner at the hotel restaurant “La Rive,” that has a gorgeous view of the canal. My eyes will see for you if you should be blinking while I’m away.

A Photo My Mom Kept

Mom is so often in my dreams
Getting ready for bed, using cold creams
I’m a lucky son – this I know
Her love wasn’t embarrassed to show

In a secret drawer in her room
As I mourned and felt such gloom
There was a photo Mom kept
The very sight of it, this son wept

It was a photo from 1996
Taken in Los Angeles with no tricks
Just me smiling, gleaming in my eye
Knowing she’d look at it made me cry

The older I get old photos look better
I can still write her a letter
When I was not at her place
Photos of me and others around her lace

It brought her comfort when alone
I realize the feeling now that I’m grown
The photos of Mom that I now keep
Comfort me in my deep sleep.

by Michael Joe Armijo, 12/16/2000