Gene Autry Museum

Wednesday July 8, 1992

Up at 7 a.m. feeling real good. No reaction from the chemo. Had to wake the 3 boys at 8:30. By 10 a.m. we're on our way to pick up my prescription at Woodland Hills, then we're off to lunch at Carl's near Griffith Park.

After lunch we toured the Gene Autry Museum for 3-1/2 hours. I did well, only tiring a few times for a quick rest on a bench. My energy level is good today and I feel no sore muscles from my walking through sand at the beach yesterday.

We pick up Maria at her Mom's house and take her with us shopping at Costco. Later we take her and the boys home. We come home for dinner after which Frank and Justin cut and paint wood in the garage all evening.

During the week that Justin visited Mom and Frank every summer, she entertained him as much as she could. What 11-year-old boy doesn't like cowboys and guns? The Gene Autry Museum sounded like a good place to take 3 boys to look at guy stuff.

Frank enjoyed working with wood in the garage and for awhile made many folding deck chairs. During this last and final summer with Grandma Dolores and Papa Frank Justin spent this evening making a birdhouse out of wood with Frank. Thank you Frank for giving of your time and talents so generously with my son. While the relationship between my dad and Justin was virtually nonexistant, Frank made up for it by being a wonderful Papa.

Frank Is Building a Doll House

Friday November 8, 1991

Last day (#5) of 1 kemo drug.

Better night and I feel better this morning. I do some housework but Frank insists on doing the vacuuming. We're going to San Diego tomorrow and Sunday to visit Dee and Steve. We'll return Monday.

Frank is happy spending lots of time in the garage lately. Mostly working with wood. He's building a doll house for Sara.

Frank humors me and takes me out for tacos for lunch. I spend the afternoon and evening going through mail.

We have leftovers for dinner. At 11 p.m. we are in bed.

OK, so maybe Frank's creation was not quite as elaborate as the dollhouse pictured above, but it's the thought that counts. Sara is his granddaughter, the daughter of his oldest son Philip. I hope she still has that dollhouse. When my son Justin went to visit mom and Frank the next year, Frank helped him build a birdhouse. It wasn't so much about the "thing" that was built, but about the time they spent together making the birdhouse. That is the sort of thing that memories are made of.