Member-only story
Waves and Memories — First Quarter/Nineteen Years pg50–51
Colorful companion to my memoir The Incompetent Psychic
We drove the longer, winding coast road with hours of sharp, stomach flopping curves. The there of us kids rode in the back seat of our oversize, overheated Chrysler. As was customary, I was forced to sit on the hump in the middle to separate Catherine and Blair, who found hitting each other, screaming and laughing to be the best way to overcome boredom and a desire to vomit.
Mom finally had enough, and when the first southern beaches appeared she directed dad to pull over. Before we could get out we were firmly instructed in his best threatening voice that, “You will NOT go into the ocean above your knees. You will NOT get your clothes wet or track sand back into the car.” — From Chapter 2
This childhood story that tells how my mom let loose her goofy humor to rescue her three children from certain doom. I remembered this story on the day she died and shared it with my younger brother and sister. We were all around 60 by then and spent the day telling Joan stories punctuated with guffaws and tears. Neither Catherine nor Blair remembered that long, puky drive to Disneyland in 1966. But we all remembered how our bizzare she bear of a mom came through for us over and over.
