I left Pacific Palisades in October, 2012. I could write a book about what happened from that point on, a real page-turner. It was a treacherous and frightening time, but I passed through the grief and am a much stronger and more faithful person today than I have ever been. Along the way I did much good, as much as I possibly could helping people going through similar trials. I received so much love and gratitude from them that I was often overwhelmed.
When I left the Palisades, I was very sad to go; and when I paid short visits I felt like a stranger. I had decided my time to be a part of the community was over, and this left a big hole in my heart. That's why I stopped blogging.
However, this July 4th I had an opportunity to relive a fond memory that took place last year--something I never thought could happen again. During the 2012 parade I got to ride with the Masons on the big red schoolhouse. The opportunity arose when my friend Lionel, the builder of the float, invited me aboard with his Mason friends and his family. I could not pass it up.
I loved the experience and the way the crowd smiled and waved at us. It was a true love fest for me. In addition, I took many photographs. I had meant to post a blog about it but never did. One of my favorite photos was of a young woman in a band whose shoe lace was untied. I kept wanting to jump off the float and tie it.
There was also the clown on Toyopa. After the parade I had a lively conversation with him about how clown phobia is a real thing. In addition, I got to see my old pediatrician, Dr. Martini, in boxer shorts--a tradition of the Optimist Club. Of course I had to have a photograph of us taken together.
All in all, it was the best July 4th I ever had, and I felt nothing could match it, so this year came as a surprise.
There is a framed photograph of my maternal great-grandfather in my mother's house. His face appears with the letter G; a compass; and a square, a Masonic symbol. After all my exposure to the Masons, I realized my great-grandfather had been one, and the photograph was a remnant of his membership.
So this July 4th I went by Lionel's house around noon. I figured he was outside preparing the float; and sure enough--there he was with his Mason friends. In my hand I carried the photograph and showed it to them. Well--they were so pleased, and Lionel asked me if I would like to join them in the parade. I said, "I would love to."
This year they did not have time to prepare their award-winning float, so they rented an old flatbed truck with wood panels on the sides. So even though we didn't have a fancy looking float, still the crowd responded so kindly that I was truly surprised.
I had no idea that people even knew who the Masons are, and yet folks were screaming and clapping as we road by in our shabby flatbed truck. The same smiling crowd in 2012 was back. One can say what they will about the entitlement in this community, but much of that falls away on July 4th. I know because I saw it.
The day had some extra bit of magic I was not expecting. Near Lionel's home was a little boy with a lemonade stand who said the proceeds of the sale were going toward his Bar Mitzvah project. He explained that a Bar Mitzvah project is to do something that encompassed social consciousness. I asked what his was going to be. He said he was going to build a Little Free Library and plans to install it where there are underprivileged kids. I was overjoyed to hear this. Someone else was doing good in a way that happened to represent my passion.
And it all comes full circle as Lionel has built a well-crafted Little Free Library, a replica of his big red schoolhouse, that sits in his garage while he searches for a public space as a home for it. So far he's found no takers.
In keeping with the theme of the Little Free Library, I had the pleasure of watching the fireworks at my friends' house on El Medio, the very people who installed a Little Free Library in front of their home. You may have seen the article about Farzan in the Palisadian Post, the man who creates wonderful sculptures made of organic materials that he displays on his front lawn along with the Little Free Library. His is the first and only Little Free Library on a residential street in Pacific Palisades. I hope to see more and continue planting seeds with other residents whenever I am here.
It seems all the good I did while I've been away is returning to me tenfold like my magical July 4th this year. During my time away, I came to realize that all I really want to do is to do good. So long as I can continue to do good, life will be meaningful, and good can be done anywhere and everywhere--even when I am not in Pacific Palisades.
