Then she told me that Dad would be spending a few days in a motel. She even called the motel and made him reservations for a whole week.Next Mom wrote...Dad a note and tapped it to his suitcase. She placed it in the driveway and then locked all of the doors with dead bolts, chains, and hooks so that he could not get in.We watched out her bedroom window as Dad’s car came into the driveway and he drove over the suitcase crushing it. He backed up, got out, and read the note that Mom had left. He. I went to Maui on a pilgrim’s search for Mom’s pineapple plantation. It’s gone, remembered locally like the orchards of Silicon Valley but gone, now a subdivision of homes and other lives. Like Dad's Alviso, time and events broke with its past. I couldn't even find my grandparents graves and accepted I'd never have grandparents, something missed.The two cousins tracked down provided no common recollections, never heard of an auntie who sailed away and we didn’t even look alike. It was as if. More

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