How incredible it is to have a best friend and he’s my youngest son, Paul. The sweetest munchkin who grew up so multi-talented he didn’t know what path to follow. A climber of mountains, working a salmon boat in Homer, Alaska, a summer at Harvard at age sixteen in an advanced program. Eventually he formed an unusual dance group creating funny shows and traveled world wide. He called from Denmark one day and told me to meet him in Berlin where he had a two week gig. Thus began our trips together. I met him in Edinburgh, London, Israel, Charlotte, SC to mention a few highlights. I recall a serious discussion in a park in London where we stretched out on lawn chairs and he gave me sound advice. I didn’t follow his sincere words and lived to regret my action. Lots of laughs, shared experiences and the glow of watching my son perform and delight audiences in every language. He speaks many languages and managed to drag me along although I did very well with German.
Now he’s in his forties and back in the states where we talk often and laugh a lot. A crisis occurs and he’s at my door embracing his old mom in a bear hug. We speak of of his dad, long time passed, and recall the joy of his life and ours as a family. My daughter and grandest granddaughter come over to share in the fun. The little one loves her uncle Paulie the most.
That’s about it. A thumbnail sketch of a marvelous person, my youngest son.