
Those of you who’ve been Facebook friends with me for a while will remember that, in the summer of 2019, I started taking Anna on Surfin’ Safaris and posting reports thereon. I knew my wife was slipping away and thought to put us in the most beautiful settings available, taking advantage of the coastal riches within our reach here in Southern California. The posts were intended to keep family and friends informed about the progression of Anna’s disease and to assure them that I loved her and that she knew it, day in, day out. They, somewhat surprisingly, became popular with those beyond our immediate circle. As a writer, I was just having fun, giving free reign to my thoughts as a mediocre, middle-aged surfer; it was a kind of helpful therapy. But the mix of whimsy and tragedy worked so well that I was urged to write up a second summer, during which Anna’s accelerating cognitive decline was chronicled. Gaining more readers, I decided upon a third summer of safaris. It was suggest...