A Lovely Stay

 So there is a VERY short list: those for whom I provide pick up or drop off at MIA, or any airport. I rarely get asked, but when I do, I remind people that I charge a LOT more than Uber. But I make exceptions for those sharing my DNA, and my nephew has, I believe, 25% of mine -- and so I agreed to fetch him Saturday evening.

There was a stupid Inter Miami game starting near pickup time at the stupid stadium which, in the MOST boneheaded move (and that's saying something in South Florida) was built hard against MIA! Luckily, WAZE directed me in such a way that I only sat in a few blocks of LeJeune Road traffic, and then I only messed up Henry's location a bit -- confusing a sign saying which arrival doors were coming with the actual number. No big whoop -- I found him, and we were off to Carrot Express.

Henry is mostly vegetarian, and I figured a restaurant with the word Carrot would work, and it did -- we brought home some bowls and wraps, and had a nice reunion with his aunt, Wifey.

Sunday we walked, and then later the Ds and their men and dogs descended. I went HARD on the Zhyr, dragging Henry and Jonathan down with me -- I squeeze by hand Mandarin oranges -- giving the juice alone to the grandsons and the juice PLUS vodka and ice to the grown men. We had a terrific time -- laughter, comparing notes of the manifold examples of nuttiness in our families. I drunk FaceTimed Valerie, Henry's wonderful wife home in Boulder Creek, Cal, and told her she MUST join us next time -- she so agreed, and I know loved seeing her man with his cousins and aunt and uncle.

Apparently we ordered Thai later, though my memory of that is fuzzy -- but after the kids left, Wifey, Henry, and I played music together on Sonos as the ETOH processed away. It was a banner family day.

Yesterday, I worked out while Henry worked, and then I fetched him and Wifey, for brunch at Roasters, a trip for Wifey to get a scrip in South Miami, and then off to Matheson Hammock -- for Grandma Sunny's yahrzeit. We showed Henry where we  placed her cremains into the Bay, by the mangroves, and how white butterflies joined us, and how we returned a few weeks later where most of us were able to tell sweet tales of our departed mother and grandmother.

Henry had only warm memories -- how he felt she loved him, her sunny disposition, bagels and juice for breakfast...

We sat on the front porch later, after a dinner of leftovers, and spoke of many things -- ships and shoes and sealing wax -- cabbages and kings.

This am, after coffee Henry and Wifey said goodbye, on account of Wifey was "All talked out" and so I took Henry to Deli Lane, where 30 plus years server Carmen was there. She told us they were moving this Summer, close by, to allow another high rise to go on the land since Miami isn't already too overcrowded. Summon sarcasm emoji.

I dropped Henry at the Thesis Hotel -- his work is at The Biltmore, and he will put in long hours filming a corporate event and showing highlights each evening. I'd love to see him again -- but he will be literally working around the clock -- until a flight back to SFO Friday am.

He is a delight. So cool. So handsome. So wise -- I am proud he is my blood. He can teach a master class in overcoming the challenges of a tough childhood, making essentially ALL great life choices, and ending up a successful business owner, creative, married to his high school sweetheart, and seeing the world together. He surfs. He has dear friends.

He is the trustee for his never had a job father. He will likely end up in the same role for his mentally ill/drug addicted brother. At some point, he will be the caregiver for his mom - my sister.

The joke is he and Val have no TIME for kids -- though they savor their life with only the furry kind of those -- adorable Enso, a cute little dog, and other animals they foster.

Next weekend, another nephew comes in -- not a biological one -- Scott. We will meet for breakfast at Mo's, and then a Marlins game with Little Man Sunday. I just reminded them that F1 is in Miami this weekend -- so avoid Joe Robbie at all costs.

But the over-arching message is: young folks are where it's at. You pick up their enthusiasm; their energy. And when you truly love them -- well -- that's as good as it gets.

Two Events

 So after Tuesday night's Marlins game, where I said what I always do: "Boy -- I LOVE coming here," Wednesday was a lecture at our local very rich reform synagogue, Temple Beth Am.

Jeff sent me tix, and when I told Wifey she made a face, so I asked Norman to come instead. We drove over through VERY serious security. The first guy looked like retired Mossad, and sure enough, asked me in a Hebrew accent for our tickets. He was in full combat gear, holding an Uzi, and with a death skull badge the colors of the Israeli flag. Next, more cops, Pinecrest and Miami Dade. Such is the joy of being a Jew in America these days, especially at high profile gatherings. Inside, Norman noticed several US Marshalls -- the better to protect the speaker, Judge Roy K Altman.

So if someone started a movement to amend the Constitution to allow naturalized citizens to run for US President, I would join, to let this Venezuelan born fellow run. I was BLOWN AWAY. I had heard about him before, but meeting him in person -- Clinton-like -- he came to say hello to my row-mates, Randy and Laura, retired AUSAs who he knew, and then shook my hand asking if we had met. I told him no, but we had a few connections: young Mike Levine was a dear friend, and Roy BEAMED -- loves the young lawyer, And he also knew Jonathan's amazing abuela Judy -- a fellow Venezuelan Jew.

I'm a total schlepper, and as he talked to me, I was the only person in the room -- a room filled with true Miami machers. Yep -- born political ways.

He played quarterback and baseball for Columbia (before it was anti-semitic as his introducer noted) and then Yale Law Review. He clerked for judges, became an AUSA, and worked for Podhurst, a top old school PI guy. He's 6' 3", 230 lbs, and movie star handsome. D1 noted "Dad has a new man crush." She's correct.

He just wrote a book called "Israel on Trial" in which he handles, like a lawyer, the case for Israel. He has taken 10% of US District judges to Israel, sort of a judicial Birthright, and is going to start taking state Supreme Court Justices this Fall. As he noted, in small states, Federal judges are the most powerful people: "Ya got us for life!"

His mission is for 60% of Americans. As he noted, 10% are deeply anti-semitic -- on the right (Tucker Carlson) and the left (Ilhan Omar). They're beyond talking to. 30% are philo - semitic, many Evangelicals who LOVE Jews, and, despite what we have heard, he noted, NOT just to convert us -- they truly feel we are their big brothers and sisters. But 60% are merely uninformed -- tossing around terms like "genocide" and "colonialism" without having any real idea what history and the truth is.

It was a rare, life moving event for me. And, his wife, Rachel Silverstein, is a local environmentalist -- started Waterkeepers which works at reef preservation and keeping Biscayne Bay pollution free. Talk about a power couple!

Thursday we were supposed to visit grandkids, but Wifey was still recovering from a cold, and the boys had their OTHER abuela to visit -- her birthday. So we have minor grandson withdrawal, but should be cured tomorrow -- family reunion visit with my nephew Henry coming tonight.

As a cranky old man, I typically no longer do MIA picks or drops, but I told Henry I was free all day and would happily fetch him. And then...I got a WAZE notice -- the stupid soccer team is playing tonight at the even stupider stadium they built hard against MIA -- so getting there may be untenable. I'm giving it a try -- if the stupid soccer fans are in their seats, it should be ok -- if not - -Henry can Uber to some off site spot and I'll fetch him there. Man -- building a 30K person stadium right next to one of the busiest places in Florida -- no -- THE busiest -- height of absurdity -- especially for soccer, a sport nobody cares about. The team is part owned by David Beckham -- I mean, he IS good looking, but not enough so I have to be delayed...

So hopefully we have a MOST memorable day tomorrow. Henry sent me a pic of us together on the roof of the East Hotel -- drinking heavily at the bar -- and somehow this was 9 years ago. I told him we need to make new memories.

Next week, another nephew, this one not biological, Scott, is coming to town for the weekend. We have plans to take Little Man to see the Marlins, after a night here with Wifey and me. He told D1 he LOVES staying with us -- the "very few rules" vibe must be the trick...

Baby Man got a new cast for his broken finger -- poor little guy. But this, too, shall pass -- D1 joked that on her visit to the ortho yesterday, she purloined a few extra finger splints, figuring there may well be future finger injuries with 2 active boys.

Here's to a great extended weekend! Nice to be vertical these days...

Take Me Out To

 So Norman and I made some dinner plans tonight. His wife is off in Canada, and Wifey was supposed to be hosting Mah Jong, but instead is recovering from the cold I likely gave her. She can never say I don't give her anything!

We were deciding where to meet, and then Norman realized the Marlins are in town, hosting the Cards tonight at 6:40. And, I added to our chat -- they sell FOOD at Loan Depot Park! So he'll be here at 5:30 and we'll head off to Hallowed Ground.

I love visiting the site, where the Orange Bowl sat for many years. The memories always flood back like friendly ghosts, for me, dating to Fall of 1979 when I attended my first Canes games. For Norman, born and raised in the County of Dade, as the song goes, his memories go ALL The way back -- the first days of the Dolphins when he was a boy!

They have parking garages now, but I always avoid them. One time it took me 45 minutes to egress -- I prefer parking on peoples' front lawns for a fee, and hearing the classic "No blockee" guarantees.

Years ago, for an Opening Day, I paid a fellow, and when I returned to my car, it was indeed blocked in -- and the house was all shut up. It was 7th inning, and back then they had the in stadium club, so I feared I might be trapped for hours. I opened my car, and got out a legal pad, and wrote, just to let off anger: "I am a Gringo Palao Priest (Palao is the evil form of Santeria) and since you lied to me and blocked me in, I have put a CURSE upon your house." I slipped the note under the door.

Immediately, the door opened -- the Cuban fellow was there the whole time -- the car blocking me was HIS -- I needed only have kept knocking on his door. He moved his car, and said, in heavily accented English "PLEASE -- REMOVE THE CURSE!" I stood in his front yard and waved my arms -- and said something in Yiddish, telling him "Sorry about the misunderstanding -- curse removed!"

Hopefully tonight we don't have parking drama.

But I SO love baseball -- my first sports love of all. And the Marlins stadium is terrific -- truly the coolest in the MLB. D1 was the team dietitian, and that still makes me proud, though she's long gone from that gig.

I am sure Norman and I will solve all manner of world and personal problems as the game plays out -- Marlins are a scrappy young team this year -- in second place despite having a bargain basement payroll.

And each time the First Baseman makes a play, it'll take me back to my days in Little League, and later, to the MacArthur High teams, where I was a serviceable player -- until I quit in 11th grade for the far more important sport of girls. Being a baseball player in Levittown in the late 70s was no chick magnet -- may have had the opposite effect on the more hippie-type chicks.

But tonight it'll be root root root for the Marlins -- among great company, and the friendly spirits...

CLE

 Ah, to stay an active member of the Florida Bar. I'd a never thunk it -- I'd still be a licensed lawyer approaching my 40th year. Paul had his 50th anniversary in 2025 -- sent a nice plastic plate and certificate to my house for him, since my house is our official Bar address now.

It's funny -- Paul was chatting with a rich guy where he lives, and the fellow was telling us he has a 1.5 acre property in the Five Towns of LI. I KNOW that's worth serious coin. The fellow, who I think was named Irwin, asked where our office was -- and Paul responded -- "Down on Brickell." I chuckled to myself -- even though we've been mostly retired for years now, and if you try to get Paul on the phone, it may take a day or two -- he can't give up the image yet -- as if Irwin was going to refer a case to us.

We actually DO get cases, still -- late last week I was on the phone with one of our guys, David, on his way home from signing up a client in Broward -- truck wreck. I have ZERO problem telling everyone we don't have a staff -- just a couple of old guys who still keep an active firm. But, as Richie Aprile said on The Sopranos -- to each his own.

But anyway, to stay licensed and current, you have to take continuing education classes -- thirty hours over a 3 year period plus a 2.5 hour mandatory professionalism seminar. Since today was a slow day, and I got in my 3.5 miles of walking, I dedicated all afternoon to the effort.

I was bored stiff for 2 2 hour sessions about mindfulness and dealing with difficult clients, and another about changes in areas of the law I have zero to do with. But the Florida Bar class was something I looked a little forward to, since Norman gave me advance warning.

My old boss Ed's boy Bobby's disbarment was featured. Bobby never stole money, or comingled trust account funds, or was convicted of a felony -- the trinity of typical disbarment reasons. He just kept acting like an asshole -- in Court, in depositions. One of his escapades was video taped, and they play it for the lesson on how to NOT be an asshole -- Bobby reaching across the table and snatching some stickers from his opposing counsel, and telling a woman lawyer she must "be a dominatrix."

I guess Bobby had enough of the Law anyway -- I mean -- after the first 2 strikes, if he wanted to keep his ticket he could have -- but as Norman pointed out, his Dad wanted fame as a successful lawyer, which he had years ago, but his son is the TRULY famous lawyer -- for getting kicked out of the club.

The last section was a talk by a former Miami big shot lawyer now living in Miami, who came across SO smarmy, I wished I was good enough with tech to send it to Barry. The guy reminded me of James Lipton, the Actor's Studio guy Barry and I used to poke endless fun over -- this fellow actually ended his talk by suggesting we look up videos by his mentors, and "enjoy them with friends, or maybe over a glass of wine."

Yeah -- no thanks, dude. For me it would be vodka, and the LAST videos I would ever watch would be of self important lawyers.

Anyway, I have lots of time -- I'm current until October of 2027, and the CLE I'm doing now will get me there, and then I'll have until October of 2030 to do more -- or will I?

I kind of always thought I'd be a lawyer maybe 10 to 20 years, tops -- make and invest enough shekels to get me where I needn't deal with, well, assholes on a daily basis -- even now that the Bar is trying to tame some of the asshole behavior, it seems.

So 4 decades? Seems like plenty. Now I just have to get in some hours on "technology" -- maybe that will actually teach me something. I'll probably knock a few more hours off this week -- but next weekend is filled.

My nephew Henry is coming Saturday, and staying 3 nights. He has a video gig on the Beach -- last time it was a tech company from SF who hired him to film their daily corporate team building stuff, edit it, and show it each night -- cutting out the cocaine and hooker parts. Ha. I made that up!

But I look forward to catching up with Henry -- I think Sunday the Ds and grandkids and all dogs will join us -- Henry doesn't drink much, but he will. We will NOT, however, try to get him to violate his veganism -- even if we have that 3rd martini.

Speaking of which, maybe I'll take Atty Smarmy's advice, and go pour myself a Sunday night happy hour -- no videos, though -- maybe just some Tom Petty on the Sonos.

What's New, Dad? Nothing -- Just The Way I Like It

 I used to make fun of my Dad when he gave his inevitable response to my question when we would speak weekly on the phone, or see each other bi-weekly, when I was in college. Really, I would interrogate -- don't you wish ANYTHING would change?

I was in my late teens to 20, and each day brought a new experience, academic or social. Dad loved hearing about them -- living college (something he never had the ability to do) vicariously -- but for himself, he adored the status quo.

Well, now, as I approach 65, I get it. I have little desire to travel, and something has to really blow my skirt up to get me to leave my house -- a given at least weekly to see the Ds and grandkids. But other than them...

Last night we met Joelle and Kenny at Platea -- lovely time with them before they leave for Maine. They typically don't travel much once they're there, but this June are heading to France -- Kenny's always wanted to see Normandy, as I did (we were there 12 years ago) -- and as we heard about their trip, all I could think was -- nah, I'm good.

Today I resumed my long constitutionals after some downtime with my common cold. I got in my 7K steps, and later, when Wifey wanted to get in some steps, walked more -- nearing 5 miles. I ran into Dr. Jose, Wifey's neurologist and UM Neuro Chair -- he asked after her and we talked about our mutual friend Barry. Later, we saw friendly Persian neighbor Mohammed, whose superstar daughter, in Peds residency in D.C., just married her neuro resident fiance, in Portugal. We were at their dual med school graduation party from FSU, and Mohammed and his wife hoped they would stay in Miami for a couples match residency -- didn't happen. But, he hopes, they're return to work here , someday.

We saw the house next to Lili and Jeff sold -- Wifey's friend Libby lived there -- a years ago book club. We looked it up -- Libby sold for a bit above $1M -- latest sale, for the 1/2 acre property was $3.6M -- to a company that bought it from a disbarred lawyer and really spruced the place up. Still -- that much for a .5 acre house? I guess living next to our friends has cache...

We returned home, and I watched the final episode of "The Pit," which was amazing. Wifey watched last night as I dozed off. We started "Things to Do in Denver When You're Dead" and got 45 minutes in before seeing why it was a flop. Now Wifey is watching Coppola's first film, "Dementia 17." I lost interest after an hour.

But the point is, we're doing lots of nothing today and tomorrow, and loving it! Come Monday (as Buffet sang), there'll be more errands. Wednesday night I'm going to see Judge Roy Altman speak at Beth Am's "Hub" their attempt at a local 92St Y which is indeed doing great -- terrific events there since it opened. Altman wrote a new book about Israel, is probably the smartest judge in Florida, and all around cool guy -- I look forward to hearing what he has to say.

Bible study, as I call our Torah classes, begins the following Wednesday -- Norman and Barry and I plan to eat and drink well before each session, even though Barry will have some serious driving -- looks like he may have some new duties for UM Med up in NE Lauderdale...

I was looking at old UM Law stuff before -- the 40th anniversary of our graduation is next month. I spotted several names: Balli, Bidner, Podesta, Snowden, who have left this mortal coil.

I hope they got to enjoy their lives. I know Charles did -- like my boys and me, ravenous Canes fan, and he got to see them soar.

So I savor each day -- even the uneventful ones. Sometimes when nothing's new -- it's how I like it, too.

You Have a Cold? I Vould BUY Your Cold!

 I'm lucky, particularly as the grandfather of a kindergartner and pre schooler: I rarely get colds. I checked -- my last one was last May, whereas typically folks get 3-4 per year. My Dad rarely got sick either -- strong immune system all the way until he dropped dead at 63.

Some friends seem ALWAYS sick. It's rare that Jeff isn't on his way to or from a pulmonologist, or internist -- and HIS grandkids live up North. I guess I'm lucky.

But late Friday, I started feeling pro-dromic, as the word goes -- like an illness is coming on. Mild fever, body aches, waterworks, sneezing. By Tuesday, it was full on (after "DTF St. Louis" I can never hear that expression again without thinking of another meaning). I had a rare, important business lunch with Paul and a former client, and I drove up to Houston's -- not shaking hands with my companions, and struggling through it. Back in the day of full working, DayQuill would have gotten me through -- now -- I just got to go home.

Wifey's mah jong crew was assembled, and I made one requested Cosmo, and was asleep by 830. I hid in the library while the cleaning ladies were there Wednesday, and ordered some chicken soup and a tuna sandwich via Uber Eats. I require zero care from anyone when I am sick.

I took it easy Thursday, as the symptoms eased, and today, mercifully, I am all better. Ahhhh. What a relief.

The experience brought back a funny memory of a very eccentric man -- my late father in law. His sense of humor would have made Andy Kaufman scratch his head. Once I was VERY sick with a cold when he visited, and I waved and told him no hand shaking. His response? "Oy -- you have a cold. I NEVER get a cold. I vould buy your cold from you. You vant to sell it????" To this day, well past a decade after his death, I don't understand his humor.

His other gem was when we attended Canton, and I ordered the "special steak," which came flaming, and "vas GOOD steak --- it's soft." The young server would ask if he wanted anything, and he would ask "Your mother. Your father. They're Chinese, too?" The server would glare and say "Yes they are."

I would get up and follow the young man into the back, hand him a $20 bill and explain my father in law was mentally ill -- please forgive him. Hopefully this prevented spittle, or worse, in our shrimp and lobster sauce.

All I know is, feeling crappy is, well, crappy -- even the classic common cold. I DID have a few cocktails last night with Dr. Barry, who has a family member with a far more serious health issue going on -- he needed to unwind a bit from dealing with that.

And tonight, we're meeting Joelle and Kenny at Platea -- the top restaurant in Pinecrest, which is a surprisingly low bar. We have very few good restaurants here -- Joelle proposed a new Key Biscayne place, but Wifey voted no with her arthritis -- could we stay closer?

Indeed, they have prime beef -- very soft. My late father in law would have approved. They also got their liquor license, so I can have a pair of martinis. We will toast to our friends upcoming snowbird flight to Maine -- they'll be there May to September. No wait -- that's a song. They may stay through November, as Kenny turns 65 then and I think he wants his big day celebrated there on golden pond -- which Thompson Lake truly is.

I'm still conflicted about my upcoming Medicare birthday, though yesterday I spent 1 hour and 20 minutes with the affable AARP United Health agent setting up all of my Medicare supplements -- I have been approved! So in June I get to call Florida Blue and tell them they've extracted the final $2200 monthly premium for me. So there.

I thought initialy I might want a sunset sail with some friends, and dinner with the kids the following night. Now I'm not sure. I WILL celebrate somehow -- turning 65 I gotta give thanks to the Big Man for another year on this mortal coil...

All I know is, it sure feels great to not be sick!

Sunny 106

 So today would have been my mother's 106th birthday - or would it have been? She always celebrated April 13th, but years later when Wifey took her to an appointment for a doc, she learned that Medicare had her with a different birthdate -- I think April 11. We asked her about it, and she said "Oh -- who cares now? 13 is my lucky number -- that's my birthday. So there."

Classic Sunny -- not a fact based, worrying type of person. Luckily, she had my Dad, who WAS fact based and a worrier -- his taking care of life's business gave my Mom the freedom to be that type of spirit. After Dad died, I filled in his role -- making sure my Mom, who never managed stuff, learned about checking accounts, paying property taxes, FPL, etc...In fact, when it came time for law school, I applied to UF and UM, and sort of wanted to go to Gainesville for a change after 4 years in Coral Gables -- but figured Sunny needed me nearby, so I stayed in So Fla. It worked out just fine...

My Mom was loving and giving. When I made my first big money, and proudly told her about it, she answered with "Oh, that's nice, David -- you need anything for the girls?" She would never let me replace her furniture, which we joked would go to the mythical Wicker Museum upon her demise, nor pay for expensive things -- with 2 exceptions.

When she turned 80, and then 85, I took the whole family to SF and then LA to celebrate. She loved it -- having everyone together in places she loved. At the 85th, we drove to Colorado Blvd in Pasadena, to let her recall her WW II days where she lived as a newlywed with my Dad, who was on the Army base there -- and she worked for the Dean of CalTech. She recalled she would get coffee and a bun every am at Owl Drugs before taking a trolley up the hills to the CalTech campus. We stepped into the Gap store -- I asked the manager if he knew where Owl Drugs used to be. He laughed and took us outside -- we were standing in the Owl Drugs Building. What a moment across the decades.

I'm so grateful Mom got to meet my Ds -- into young adulthood. My youngest grandson has an S name -- after Sunny. He is sweet like she was. His brother's middle name, Hy, is after my Dad. We just learned that his graduation from kindergarten is set for May 29th -- great grandpa Hy's birthday. I take that as a happy message from The Big Man...

Speaking of Baby Man, he had a rough day yesterday -- a scooter crash where it landed on his index finger. D1 took him to urgent care -- sure enough -- displaced fracture. They splinted him up, and I called my dear friend Lew, a hand surgeon, and texted a photo of the x ray. Lew is in Ohio on a work gig, but said surgery IS needed -- a pin that will insure the bone heals the right way. He can do it on Monday -- but since his Broward hospitals have been shedding Pediatrics, on account of it's not a big earner, he'd do it at West Boca.

I think D1 will decide if she wants to wait, or possibly have it done this week closer to home -- Dr. Barry has a guy, but we needn't bother him for a finger...

The joy of parenting boys. Little Man already broke his foot -- the running joke is if you have active boys -- get to know ortho surgeons...

Hopefully Little Man swims through and gets back on the scooter...

But this am I looked skyward and spoke to my Mom. She was my first love. She was beautiful, and being loved by a beautiful woman gave me boundless confidence -- particularly with women. Of course, now that I'm near Medicare, I reflect how much easier life may have been as a gay man -- but like Jack Nicholson said, if I could just stomach the sex part.

It's funny -- I was always SO close with my Dad, I saw myself as a boy Dad, too. Turned out, I was to be a girl Dad, but now I have grandsons -- so I get more experience with orthopedic surgeons for issues other than scoliosis.

Back to Mom. She lived 30 years longer than Dad, and I'm convinced a big part of it was her ability to NOT internalize the anxieties of her family. She had moments, of course -- I remember her terribly worried when my sister's husband called to tell her that unless she sent $2000 to fix their roof, "your grandsons will be sleeping in wet beds." But it passed, and she came to realize all of her kids' life choices were theirs.

And oh boy, did she make us laugh -- often unintentionally. She had her own internal dialogue, and occasionally it would surface. To this day, 4:30 pm is "Grandma Sunny Time." Why? We were driving home, on Old Cutler Road, and out of nowhere she sighed and said "Ah...it's 4:30." Wifey looked at her -- was there a show on? Did she have to be somewhere we didn't know about? Was someone coming to our house to visit? "No -- I just looked at my watch." So -- Grandma Sunny Time.

I thank her for messing me up FAR less than most mothers messed up their kids -- particularly sons. I see a lot of that around -- well meaning Moms, who can't quite figure out how to cut the umbilical cord -- even well into adulthood.

Not Sunny. When I graduated 6th Grade, she wrote in my book "I admire you. I respect you. And mostly, I love you." I carry those feelings deep inside, now 13 years after her death.

And today I wish her, as they say on FaceBook, a happy heavenly birthday.