Grieving a loved one’s death is never easy, as I learned 20 months ago when my husband Jim passed away.
My biggest challenge was managing my publishing business alone. Jim retired several years earlier, but he was my business partner for more than two decades.
My focus was off, my employees unsure how to deal with me. No one wanted to deliver bad news. I struggled with decisions. It took time, but we all adjusted.
If you’re looking for Jonathan Lum, check the soccer pitch.
As vice president of the Sacramento Soccer Alliance, Lum says he has “no specific duties” for the nonprofit that provides community-based competitive soccer to area youth.
No specific duties mean he really does everything.
Daniel Owens has a theory. He says, “In every art form, there are envelope pushers and archivists. Both play very important roles. But it’s been very helpful for me to figure out which one I am.”
Throughout his career as a musician and teacher, Owens pushed. He was halfway through a degree in classical trombone performance at San Jose State when he realized he didn’t fit the classical world. He transitioned to jazz and salsa, composing and performing his own work.
His decision to study trombone was unconventional. Raised in a musical family and playing piano, in middle school he craved the community of a band. He switched from piano to trombone and “caught the bug,” joining every band possible.
If you can’t picture yourself laughing about death, read “Almost Family,” a debut novel by Ann Bancroft.
The Land Park writer will have you chuckling along with the characters as they face death from various forms of cancer. But it’s not a cancer book.
“The topic isn’t cancer, it’s about relationships,” says Bancroft, 71, who twice battled cancer. “We all live until we die and, surprise, we’re all going to die. I wanted to make it easier to discuss death, to make people more comfortable with illness and dying, so I tried to use humor. Cancer’s not one thing. You’re still worried about what’s for dinner. You’re still a whole person.”
A whale harpoon hangs on the reception area wall. A relic to prove a point: To change something bad, create something better.
“For thousands of years we harpooned whales to light our homes,” says Paul Shapiro, CEO of The Better Meat Co. “We didn’t stop because we care about whales. We stopped because kerosene was a cheaper way to light our house.”
Humans whipped horses to get from one place to another. That ended when cars were invented. Feathers were plucked from live geese for writing, until the metal fountain pen came along.
