Home for a night to see my dad off to Singapore (again). My grandfather is leaving for Taiwan on Tuesday, too. My parents picked me up from the BART station and I asked my mom if her dad was going to Taiwan because he was going there to die. She doesn’t seem to think so. He’s been wanting to go for years, and now, age 88 (or 89?), he’s decided he is well enough of mind and body to brave a 12-hour flight. Good for him, I think! Speaking of family, my nightmares continue, and this week I dreamed (dreamt?) that we had a big family gathering and Dick Cheney was at dinner because he had no where else to go and he was feeling guilty and remorseful about his life. And then he paid us for dinner, saying our food and service and compassion was covered by the presidential expense. My cousin who died this past summer was at the dinner, too, and somehow and somewhy, I was in love with him.
Also, today, going to dinner:
Mom: “Why are you parked so far from the restaurant and all the other cars?”
Me: “Because he doesn’t want to be by the people. Dad doesn’t like people.”
Dad: “I like people.”
Me: “Okay, I was just kidding.”
Dad: “I mean, I like reading about people.”
