Return To Me

‘She had never known someone who loved to wander so much, and who was so captivated by the ordinary beauty of the landscape.’--Yuan Yang, PRIVATE REVOLUTIONS

Snow Photo by: Jesper Gotzsche, Viborg, Denmark

In April 2000 I was discovering something that now seems ordinary but then felt almost miraculous: the ability to exchange letters instantly across the Atlantic.

Paloma and I had already been writing by post, but suddenly our conversations were happening daily through Hotmail—long, thoughtful messages that read more like letters than what we now call “emails.”

She wrote from the south of France, often describing the small rhythms of her life. Some mornings she would sit on her terrace overlooking the Mediterranean, reading in the sun and watching the sea. She joked that she could tan for hours while Alexandre burned instantly. I could almost picture it: the bright light, the quiet, the salt air.

Our messages wander everywhere, the way real conversations do.

We talked about travel—Jonathan riding the Eurostar under the English Channel to London, a trip that still felt futuristic at the time. We talked about movies, Legoland, and childhood things that Jonathan loved. She mentioned how strange it felt that Paris to London was only thirty minutes beneath the sea.

But just as often the emails turned reflective.

Paloma told me she had found a diary she wrote when she was fourteen and wondered whether anyone should ever read the private thoughts of a younger self. That idea resonated with me—because I too kept journals and understood how personal those pages can be.

There were also ordinary family stories that make letters feel alive: her brother Edouard visiting from Albuquerque, complicated relationships among friends and lovers, and the everyday dramas of family life. Through those details I glimpsed a whole world—people I had never met but somehow came to know.

What strikes me now, rereading these messages twenty-five years later, is how sincere communication was. Nothing rushed. Nothing is abbreviated. Each message felt like sitting down to write a real letter.

She once wrote something that captures the spirit of that exchange perfectly:

“I find it important to communicate… it’s probably why we enjoy writing to each other so much.”

And she was right.

In that moment around the year 2000, before social media and texting took over, email was still a kind of digital letter writing—thoughtful, reflective, and surprisingly intimate.

Those conversations with Paloma remind me that sometimes the most meaningful connections are built not through grand events, but through the quiet sharing of everyday life.

April 19, 2000

I received a card from Cousin MaryAnn Gehling in Colorado Springs. She is making a quilt for me, but the note was rather funny. I had been sending her pieces of fabrics from my travels, too.

Dear Michael,

Do you remember the movie “Honey, I Shrunk the Kids”? Well, honey, I shrunk the quilt.

MaryAnn

My niece, Ashley, also sent a couple of postcards:

Postcard #1:

Hey Tio!

Remember this show? The two people on the right are together in real life.

Well, I wanted to ask you a question. Remember when we went to that Holocaust Museum? Well, we’re learning about the Holocaust in History class. What museum was it? And where was it? E-mail me.

Ashley

Postcard #2:

Hey Tio!

I found a bundle of postcards, so I figured I’d send this card cuz I’m watching BUFFY.

Anyways, I found out I’m arachnophobic. I found a FAT one in my room and ugh! I hate spiders so much.

We watched SCHINDLER’s LIST in school, but I saw it before. We saw it sophomore year in KOFFMAN. TEEN PEOPLE has a book club now. He-he. You know I'm a member. Well, I’m going to be. Did you hear Brittney Spear’s new song, OOPS I DID IT AGAIN? It’s ok, I guess, but her voice is hella voguey. Well, running out of space.

Love, Ashley

It was PASSOVER 2000 and we had a group photo done (minus me, because I was the photographer).

The surprise guests besides Jack, Gloria and Carrie were Herb Braha and girlfriend, Carol Velkes.

April 20, 2000

The earnings for MICROSOFT came out today. They always have good earnings but it’s never good enough. Ironic.

I spotted a surfer, completing his surf today. It became my Photo of the Day, today, April 20, 2000. I sometimes wonder about surfers (or even strangers that I see at a cafe). For example, what does this surfer do in his regular life? Is it his day off? Does he wish he had a boyfriend (or a girlfriend)? What are his dreams?

Alan and I saw a movie at the theater today called KEEPING THE FAITH. It was a romantic comedy about two friends (played by Ben Stiller and Edward Norton). Stiller became a rabbi and Norton became a priest. They both fall in love with the same woman they knew in their youth—but the religious position of both men denies them romance. The priest cannot break his vow of celibacy, and the rabbi cannot marry her since she is not Jewish. It was wild, but it was good. I loved it and I loved this line from the film:

“Sometimes we don’t know we’ve crossed a line until we’re already on the other side.”

April 21, 2000

Alan and I drove to the FARMER’s MARKET on Fairfax in West Hollywood, and we were bad boys because we had chocolate raised donuts with coffee there. I loved driving down Hillcrest Road in Beverly Hills. The palm trees on that street are so grand, and it’s often featured in films and music videos.

This Friday night, Alan and I escaped to see another film. This time it was THE VIRGIN SUICIDES. The title sounds grim, I know. It was about a group of male friends who were obsessed with five mysterious sisters. The neighborhood boys narrate the story, and it takes place in the 1970s. One of the sisters’ suicide attempt and the effects on their family in a suburban town are highlighted. It was an unusual psychological drama, but I don’t need to see it again. Kirsten Dunst was one of the sisters (I like her). And Josh Harnett was one of the neighbors (I like him).

April 22, 2000

I took a photo of our dogs: PUFFY, KING, and FIFI. I love them because they’re low maintenance and they never poop.

A 1999 movie, a late one via videocassette at home, was chosen tonight called THE BIG KAHUNA. This phrase (THE BIG KAHUNA) has a cultural connection to surfing and the Hawaiian beach culture, but the meaning has evolved over time. KAHUNA (a Hawaiian word) used to refer to an expert, priest or a master in a particular craft. In the 1950s and 1960s there was a famous Waikiki surfer that was jokingly referred to as THE BIG KAHUNA—but this movie wasn’t about surfers at all. Instead, three sales representatives attend a trade show in the American Midwest to sell industrial lubricants. They hope to meet a business executive that is referred to as THE BIG KAHUNA, and the comedy drama goes from there. Kevin Spacey and Danny DeVito were in the film along with this Italian handsome newcomer I’d never seen before: Peter Facinelli.

April 23, 2000

Alan and I took a walk along the Marina, and the reflections made me reflect on mom again, so I wrote to her in my private journal to her. I needed to talk to her again. So, here is how it went:

4-23-2000 — 6:32am
Easter Sunday

Dear Mom,

It’s Easter Sunday and I’m at St. Monica’s Church in Santa Monica, CA. I felt a need to be here today. I came alone. I can’t imagine Alan in a church. I’ll never let you go. This is “my own” time to pray for you (and Dad).

A couple of days ago, you made me cry. I wrote the following in one of Ashley’s forthcoming 16th birthday card:

May 8, 2000

Dear Ashley,

I know your Grandma Virginia would have loved the opportunity to buy these NSYNC concert tickets for your 16th Birthday. And so, I’m doing it for her. If she were alive today here is what I think she’d say:

Love,
Uncle Mike

Happy Birthday, Ashley!

Sweet 16 — Never Been Kissed (like your movie “Never Been Kissed” starring Drew Barrymore).

I’m so proud of my granddaughter. You are very special to me. You made me laugh and you made me cry; you’re the daughter I always wanted.

Now — enjoy seeing LANCE of NSYNC (again!). I’ll be with you.

Love Always,
Grandma Virginia
Love Never Dies

(Then I cried… looking at a photo of you and Ashley.)

Did I get it right, Mom?

7:50am: I’m home. The mass is over.

The Monsignor said:

“We are born out of Love —
We die into love —
and we must, in-between — Trust Love.”

I liked that.

Tonight, Alan and I watched a film called RETURN TO ME. How fitting that I chose such a title. Alas, this was another romantic comedy starring David Duchovny and Minne Driver. A man (David) falls in love with the woman (Minnie) who received his wife’s heart via a transplant and must decide which woman it is who holds his heart. Now, that’s a wild premise.

April 24, 2000

I continued the next morning, writing to mom and included a postcard of “Le Sirenuse, Positano, Italy”, where we stayed in October 1999.

4-24-2000 — 6:30pm

Dear Mom,

Do you remember the place above? We were just there in October 1999. On Oct 13, 14 & 15th to be exact.

I remember when you looked out the balcony & said,

“Isn’t it beau-ti-ful.”

I can almost hear the words now.

I’m glad I got you to experience the beauty of it all. Who knows — you’re probably in a much more beautiful place now.

I was thinking about the story the Monsignor told during Easter Sunday mass yesterday. He said there was a woman who learned she only had three months left to live. She went to the parish to make her funeral arrangements. She told the pastor that she wanted a fork in her hand as she lay in her casket during her memorial service.

The pastor asked, “Why a fork?”

And she said, “During all the church potluck dinners and festivities for fundraisers and benefits, I was always told to ‘keep your fork’! And so, I always kept my fork in anticipation of the BEST dessert that was coming.,” she continued, “This way, during my memorial service, when people see the fork in my hand they’ll be reminded that something BETTER is coming.”

Mom, I remember your first cousin, Marie-Antoinette, telling me that you are in ‘a BETTER place’. I think you know I miss you. I think you knew—if you ever passed away, like Dad, I’d miss you so very much. Well, you’re right, mom. I miss knowing that I can call you almost at any given moment and find you home. You were my security. I could always count on you being there. Oh, listen to me, rambling on her. I can't do this to myself. I CAN COUNT ON YOU—even now. I’m writing to you NOW. And I’ll be with you one day. Somehow, dying doesn't’ seem so bad because we die into love and I know I’ll be seeing you. If anyone is mourning for me—they should be happy because I will have found you again.

April 24, 2000

My Photo of the Day was of me with the Super Bowl Teddy Bear, sitting on the sofa that felt like clouds. Alan took this photo of me before we left for the movies.

Yes, Tonight was movie night yet again. This time it was THE SKULLS, this time a psychological thriller starring Joshua Jackson and Paul Walker. A senior at an Ivey league college who depends on scholarships and work on the side gets accepted into a secret society known as THE SKULLS. It was kind of creepy with crime intertwined. It surely got my mind off things. I hope I sleep well.

April 25, 2000

I noticed the beautiful blooming of the Birds of Paradise flower in front of our house today. I also liked the beautiful words from a card my Cousin MaryAnn Gehling sent today. It was a tad haunting as she spoke of her brother, Dave, who died during the Vietnam War—but she still talks to him:

Michael,

I just realized I’m writing you an actual letter—pink ink, pink envelopes, sealed in the old-fashioned way. Somehow that feels right.

I talked to you briefly about the creeping phlox story. It was fun to hear your reaction immediately instead of waiting weeks to hear what you thought. Dave says the reason he wanted you and me to share that story is so we could see what he tells each of us. He wants us to know that he’s guiding us. He doesn’t want us to doubt it.

He reminds me that we have a destiny together—something different from simply being cousins. This is the second time he’s mentioned the mysterious destiny, so the creeping phlox feels like a sign from Dave.

When you open this box, you’ll see why it took me so long to reply to your email. I read the book I’m sending you—it took a while—but it’s the one I promised. My mother-in-law read it first and passed it on to me. I couldn’t resist commenting in pencil in the margins and underlining parts I loved. I’m curious about what you think of it.

And yes—there are two cassette tapes inside. After I got your last tape, I decided to play around and make one of my own. I even made a little cover for the case, so it would look somewhat professional—though I’m sure it doesn’t quite succeed. I posed for the cover photo as if I lived in the 1920s… a bit of a provocateur for that era.

I couldn’t send my music without explaining why I love these songs. I meant to write a mini book about it, but it still took days to finish.

You may wonder what the other tape is. It’s from my daughter, Staci. She happened to be here when your tape arrived, and she rolled her eyes at the flair and drama of it—but she thought it was funny. She recently started a book club with friends, and they meet once a month. About two weeks after your tape came, she showed up with a tape she’d made for you. It’s some of her favorites.

I’m not sure if that’s funny or just proof that she notices everything we do—she can’t admit we have good ideas.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the tapes. She’s been urging me to send them along. I’ve listened to them twice already.

Well, Michael, it’s time for me to wrap this up and go to the post office.

Love you lots,
MaryAnn — aka “Treezy”

P.S. A hibiscus from my pink lavender creeping phlox.

...a couple of days later I had Alan photograph me—to send to MaryAnn---holding one of MaryAnn’s M&M Cookies with creeping phlox blooming in my own neighborhood. I had never known what creeping phlox was until MaryAnn filled me in. Now I see the beauty of it. The pretty of pink.

Surfer

I once met a surfer on the shore

Lithe and lure to the core.

A brazen, blond man,
With a bronze tan.

Watch him glide and ride a wave,
The thrill of the ocean share the crave.

Lean and handsome human machine,
Movie magic, all-American clean.

One wonders of his exhilarating zest,
He’s already splashing refusing to rest.