A man with simple tastes.

This picture was taken on his 31st birthday, by Janet.
This type of breakfast was probably typical of him.

When he visited, and I offered to make him breakfast, he came back with: "Mom, you rest, I'll make you breakfast!" He enjoyed fussing in the kitchen, rustling up some grub, making the most of whatever he found. He was generous with his time, and these little offerings to make me breakfast were most appreciated.

So, we'd sit around, I with strong coffee, he with a latte or a glass of milk, and catch up.
"What do you eat, son?" I would ask.
"I try to cook a good meal."
"What do you make?"
"BBQ chicken, fish. spaghetti."
"Vegetables?"
"Yeah!"
"Really?"
"I've started to grow some greens, arugula, in the front yard, and left it there to seed and now..."
"Yes, it self seeds. You'll have arugula everywhere. Basil and parsley too."
"I put basil in every dish!"
"How do you make your spaghetti?"
"I use the same tomatoes and paste you use. It does make a difference, no?"


And that's how it went. He was conscious of nutritional needs, of staying in shape, of eating well, of avoiding additives.  He was also conscious of how his dog was growing, what nutritional needs he had, and had switched to raw food for Butters to keep her healthy. He spent time exercising her too, taking her to dog parks and to swimming holes.



With time, he would have grown more vegetables in that big yard of his.
He talked about putting in a pool for exercise and a studio/greenhouse, a place where he could grow even more vegetables.

He had purchased a modest house, a small California bungalow that he would soon outgrow. But for now, he was home.

Janet had told him about some family farms nearby, and he began purchasing CSA produce from them, trying new vegetables he was not familiar with. Riding his bike down the LA River under freeways and major streets, he discovered old families with horse ranches training kids to ride horses, keeping livestock and vegetable gardens. He was impressed with their way of life, their self sufficiency.

That last summer, I could see how he and Janet were viewing the world together, growing together, planning and dreaming together.

Brian and Port Orford.

We moved to Port Orford in 2003, while Brian was still at Riverside, in college. He had visited this part of the country with his sister, and had actually spent a night north of here in Bandon.  He fell in love with this part of Oregon, and was happy to know that after a couple of hours on a plane to Eureka, he was back with us. We picked him up in Eureka and drove the three hours to reach Port Orford, talking all the way.

Our moving away from his childhood home, meant that Brian didn't return home after college. He remained in Riverside, working  at the University during summer vacation, until he got his job at L3 and moved to Long Beach. I remember the time he called to tell us about Wooly's (his dog) illness. Losing Wooly to cancer broke his heart.

This picture was taken in November 2009, a few weeks after he bought the house and acquired his new dog, Buttercup. For two plus years, he dreamed of buying a house so he could house a new dog.  Here,  he is starting to work on his front garden.

Janet can tell you more about this project than I can. Brian and I had talked about this, but it was Janet who guided him through this first project.

The great outdoors.

Brian was a city kid. Born at the Kaiser Permanente Hospital in Hollywood, lived in Covina for the first  two years, and then spent the rest of his life in Woodland Hills, in the same house on Farralone Ave until the earthquake of 1994, when we vacated and lived in the neighborhood, at Mike Kohan's house and Scott's house for a couple of years until the new house was erected.

Every day, rain or shine, Brian would stop at the broken house, and check on Sam, his cat he had rescued at his nursery school by Woodlake, a kitty he brought home before she was fully weaned. He had weaned and cuddled with that kitty for years. After the earthquake, she couldn't adjust to the new digs, and he took her back, to the garage that was still full of our stuff and was not going to be demolished.  She lived there, in that square block, sleeping in the garage where Brian would visit, feed and play with her before and after his school day.  In the evening, all of us would then visit the site and see the progress of the work, and have picnics for hours, discussing our day, sharing our dreams.  Brian became interested in the workmanship, and asked many questions of Jim Stewart, our contractor.

Brian's initials are on the pavement by the entrance to the new house, under the deck at 5780 Farralone, Woodland Hills, Ca.

When the house was finished, he constructed the irrigation system, and helped me plant and tend the garden areas. We drove all the way to the Huntington Gardens fall sale to pick up some beautiful roses and specimens. He and I set up new lawns, and proudly lined the driveway with herbs.

He loved water, trees, outdoor recreation, camping, fishing. In elementary, his dad coached him starting in early spring with baseball, then soccer through summer and fall, and basketball through winter.  His dad also became an umpire for baseball and soccer after Brian got to high school and stopped playing team sports. He became interested in tennis, and there too, his dad coached him, advised him on which racket to choose.  Later, he picked up golf too.

After his death, his camping equipment, his sports equipment, his bikes were all donated to his friends who had played or camped with him. Each was invited to choose and to treasure the friendship he had had with Brian.  Mike Kohan took one bike; Sean Miller the other. Johnny Tully, the camping gear, basketball stuff. Whatever was left went to Salvation Army.  

You are with me.

Dear Brian,
You were standing on the deck at the lake, Janet at your side. I chose this picture for your obituary. Yes, I thought, this is how you left us.

You were  enjoying your dog Butters playing with Pia's dog Walrus. You were happy for the dogs, for the space you loved, their playfulness making you happy, your family and the love of your life by your side.

This is the last picture of took of you, July 4th weekend of 2011. A week or so later, you were dead. This is how I will forever remember you.







Below, is the full picture, you and Janet Lee, your fiance, smiling at the dogs.

This is our last meal, at Redfish, you, Janet, Pia and Jason, your Dad and me, celebrating our 45th Anniversary.

Your dog Butters is now living with Johnny Tully, the young neighbor across the street who offered her a home.

This is your backyard after your death. Your friends and neighbors came over, and they tore down, cleaned up, and installed a new garden. Janet designed the garden of your dreams and she made it happen in just a few weeks.

A lot of love and dedication went into this task. Over a hundred people worked here at one time or other, before and after the funeral services.  The Lee family, including Bryan Lee who took a military leave to be here, made sure this garden came together the way Janet wanted it.  A remarkable feat!
Even friends from high school were here. In this photo, on the left, is Jordan, the friend you had in junior high.

You were most loved, son. You are missed.