A parable

Jimmy Carter was midway through his first year as president, the Garvey-Lopes-Russell-and-Cey infield was entering its prime and our family was thriving. My sister, her husband, my brother and I lived in a Los Feliz apartment with my mom, and we couldn't be tighter. Each motivated another. We shared a vision for the future. Heck, we were even in the midst of an expansion - my sister was pregnant with her first child.

Almost as suddenly, it ended.

The first domino to fall was my sister and her husband. The economy was in the crapper and my brother-in-law had a job waiting for him in a Reno ski factory. Off they went, and suddenly, home seemed a bit emptier, like an office after a round of layoffs.

Laughter wasn't as easy to find.

The next to leave was my older brother, to law school in San Francisco. Suddenly, the leadership - the moral compass - was missing. And the office seemed emptier.

When I left for college in San Diego, only my mom and our dog remained in that old apartment from where the cacophony of one of Los Angeles's busiest streets was a constant.

With no one helping to cook the meals, wash the clothes or take the dog out for her daily walks, life for my mom became more of a series of daily chores. Much of the enjoyment of being in that apartment had gone.