In case you are wondering, if you deposit an Australian 10-cent coin into a San Francisco parking meter, you get one minute.
The 10-cent coin features the Queen on one side and on the other, a male lyrebird, tail feathers on display. Lyrebirds mimic other birds, and also things like crying babies and car alarms. What fun that must be.
Two weeks ago I learned that an old friend of mine, and by old I mean 98, had become ill. My husband told me to get on a plane, he’s got this, so I packed a carry-on and flew to San Francisco in a magical time-changing machine with cold dinner rolls and tiny bottles of wine. The next day, I was in Beate’s living room.
She opened her eyes and said, “What are you doing here?” I trimmed her nails and asked if she was thirsty.
Beate has wonderful care at home, and is surrounded by her plants and many knick-knacks, including an impressive assortment of schnauzer figurines and a solar-powered dancing sunflower still in its packaging. She sips tea from her glass mug, and has an occasional bite of soft-boiled egg. Most of the time she sleeps.
For as long as I can remember, Beate has owned a collection of wind-up toys that she keeps in a round Chinese hat with long fringe braids. There’s a frog with jazz hands that moves from side to side, a cowboy hat that darts around spastically, and a monkey that does somersaults. My brother and I spent a good chunk of our childhood on the floor with these toys, and my daughters know where to look for them when we drop by for tea.
I asked my brother if he’d mind if I took the wind-up toys back to Perth. “Just leave me the pear that sticks out its tongue,” he said. Fair enough.
So I took her toys and said goodbye. When I adjusted her hospital gown and told her I needed to go home, she squeezed my hand and said, “I am on the trip of all trips.” Then she requested a glass of water and shooed me away.
Beate is a Holocaust survivor. After 9-11, she didn’t like all the American flags popping up all over the place. “That’s how it starts,” she’d say, dishing up a rich chocolate cake from Schubert’s. I was hoping she’d live long enough to see Hillary beat Trump.
My family was waiting for me at the airport. Willa had new shoes and Simone won her hockey game. Soon after we got home and rolled around on the floor, I whispered to the girls, “I have something for you.” I zipped open my bag and handed them the Chinese hat filled with wind-up toys. “The monkey!” Willa exclaimed.
We lined up books on the carpet so the toys could dance. “Let’s pretend they’re at school,” Simone said. It’s hard to keep twenty wind-up toys all in motion. We laughed as the birds outside chirped and sang. I don’t think there are lyrebirds in Perth. But would I know if there were?