My father died 54 years ago today, a beautiful, sunny day in San Diego.  It was a motorcycle accident.  He wasn’t wearing a helmet.  Each year, I honor this day.  I sit here now listening to the gift of rain.  Much has been canceled due to the “atmospheric river” on approach.  It started raining the night of my father’s funeral and my memory is that it rained for forty days and forty nights but that seems rather biblical so I don’t know and there’s no one left to ask.

Tears of sorrow – sweet tears perhaps, sweetened with Love.  

I don’t know why I’m so affected by what has, and is happening to Damon Hamlin.

My early years in Iowa, I was raised to watch football.  The Rose Bowl game was a huge deal and I remember going when I was a teenager and then later.  I’ve been to the Super Bowl twice, once in L.A. and once in New Orleans.  I enjoyed watching football, and then Steve and I watched a documentary on what it does to the players, and we stopped – cold turkey – actually I like cold turkey but the point is it didn’t feel right to watch.

Now I wonder what will happen to a “sport” that thrills and unites, and also divides people, but at such a cost to the players.  

And the rain pours down.

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