Beach Tires

crissy fieldI’m very excited to see my story, “Beach Tires”, in Hippocampus Magazine. Ariela was very proud to be a trail docent in Golden Gate National Park. The photo in Hippocampus shows her trail at Crissy Field. Ariela’s painting on my website banner is a view from her trail.
http://www.hippocampusmagazine.com/…/beach-tires-by-harrie…/

The Visitor

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I went to see Ariela’s gravesite yesterday. Skylawn is about a mile from the Pacific Ocean. From the edge of the cemetery, you can see a sliver of the water. That’s when it’s not foggy.

As soon as I got out of my car, a cold wind grabbed me. Wind and fog – Ariela’s kind of weather. I went back to my car for my sweatshirt and started to climb up the hill to Ariela’s site. I was so teary that I couldn’t find her marker. I saw Chinese names and then Spanish names. Where were the Jewish names? Continue reading

Free Concerts in San Francisco.

Inside Old St. Mary's photograph by Kevin G. McGlynn

Inside Old St. Mary’s, photograph by Kevin G. McGlynn

This was published today in Huffington Post. The photograph tells the story.

Ariela loved music. She took almost every music appreciation class City College had to offer — Jazz, Latin, American Folk, Traditional African, Black Tradition in American Dance, Classical and Opera. From years of listening to books on tape, she had developed an incredible auditory memory. After hearing a piece once, she could identify title, composer, and genre. Class assignments often included attending and critiquing live concerts. That’s when she searched and found Noontime Concerts. Continue reading

Ariela’s Friends and Mine

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Ariela’s friends come to see me. I like to think they are my friends, too. But first they were friends with Ariela. They started as her aides, hired for the job. But it was never just a job, and they knew that from the start. In the past week, four of her friends came by, and two sent me emails.

I went to dinner with Kim. We came back to my house and my closet. Kim is my fashionista buddy and was Ariela’s before she was mine. She went through my sweaters and told me I needed to get a few new things for my trip to New York.

“These are fall colors. You need spring,” she said. “We’ll go shopping.”

That’s good, because I hate shopping by myself. I see a top or a dress and think, “Oh, that would look so cute on Ariela.” Then, I remember.

I used to love buying clothes for Ariela, though she rarely liked what I selected. She loved shopping for herself. I was never sure if she didn’t like my taste, or she just wanted to have some control over her life, or maybe she wanted to tell me she could buy her clothes without me.

I think clothes are all about communication. Ariela liked to make a statement with her outfits. So, it figures that she would want to pick out her own wardrobe. She went in for plaids and stripes and bright colors. I suspect she would have been more flamboyant in her dress if she could have found more things to fit. She wore a size 7 girls. It’s not easy to find trendy clothes in that size. I had a few things tailored for her. But most of the time, shopped in the children’s department and avoided anything that said, “juvenile.” She shopped with friends, like Kim, who knew what was cool and would buy things they liked. She liked Abercrombie’s and Forever 21 and the GAP.

So, now I shop with Kim, because she knows what’s in fashion. And like all of Ariela’s friends, she connects me with all things young, and hip, and springtime, and Ariela.

November 17

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Today is Ariela’s birthday. She would have been twenty-seven. We always celebrated with a party and presents. I don’t know what she liked better — being the center of attention or getting all of the presents.

When she was in elementary school, we invited her entire class to her parties.

My mother would never let me leave anyone out. Even Evelyn Miller who had cooties. “You’ll invite Evelyn or there won’t be any party,” my mother said. “Remember, you went to her party.”

Nowadays, it’s amazing how many people don’t reciprocate. Even kids who came to Ariela’s parties year after year. The little girl who lived four houses down. The twins in her Girl Scout troop. Maybe those girls didn’t have parties.

One girl in her class always included Ariela. For one birthday, a long white limousine drove everyone to a restaurant atop a skyscraper in San Francisco. I hear that girl moved to New York City. I’m sure she’s building skyscrapers now.

Ariela had lots of bowling parties. Duck pins when we lived in Massachusetts. Ten pins in California. She took friends to the San Francisco aquarium on two birthdays. Another year to the opening of a Harry Potter movie. At twenty-one, she invited her friends to a nightclub. A few years ago, a friend threw her a surprise party. A lot of great parties, just not enough of them.

The Psychic

psychic cartoon We went sightseeing at the Baltimore Harbor last weekend. It was a warm Sunday afternoon, and lots of people were out, meandering around the shops and stalls on the plaza. An old woman in a straw hat sat under an umbrella between the fire juggler and the arborist.   Beside her a large poster board read, “Psychic readings $5 and up.”

“Let’s do that,” my sister said. I was surprised that she would suggest something so woo-woo, but I was game. We had some time to kill.

Leslie The Psychic told me I was creative.

“Good start,” I thought.

Then, she asked me what I did. “I’m a writer,” I said. “I’m writing a book.”

“What’s it about?” Leslie asked. If she’s a psychic, isn’t she supposed to know that?

“About me and my daughter.”

“Your daughter doesn’t like this book,” Leslie said.

I nodded. How did she know?

“Where’s your daughter now?” Leslie asked.

Leslie was quickly losing credibility with me.

“She died,” I said. Leslie should have known that.

“Have you thought about the cover?”

“Well, my daughter was an artist. I was thinking about one of her paintings.”

“No.” Leslie shook her head. “Put that on the back. You need to put something on the cover that will make me want to grab that book off the shelf in Barnes and Nobles.”

So, now Leslie’s a psychic and a marketing expert.

“She doesn’t like everything you’re writing. You need to put something on the cover that she will like.”

“Fair enough,” I said.

“Your cover should have clouds, because she’s in heaven. And you should be walking along a beach.” Leslie drew a cartoon of a cloud and a stick figure on the back of her business card and handed it to me.

Not exactly what I had in mind. Leslie couldn’t draw very well, either.

“Your book will be a best seller,” Leslie said.

Well, that’s reassuring.

“Call me,” she said. “And God bless.”