Why I'm here

Even if invisible, this place makes sense to me.

A Walk in My Neighborhood © 2026 Catherine Fleming

I’m pretty new to this online neighborhood known as Substack. A while back, I stopped posting regularly on the former Twitter, created a Substack account, and then promptly forgot about all social media. One of the main reasons for abandoning social media was because my life kept me beyond busy.

In addition to keeping up with my thriving law practice, I had to split my focus between my dad and my daughter. With each month he lived with us, my father’s health grew more fragile, requiring greater care and attention 24/7. Within a year, I relied on care managers, aging support consultants, and a care team.

Meanwhile, my middle schooler was losing her hair to alopecia areata, despising Zoom-only school, and resenting my dad for resembling a toddler rather than that funny and chubby Grandpa she had always cherished. There was never enough time or enough of me for anything or anyone. I was forever running to Zoom depositions and court hearings, then grabbing time in between to schedule medical appointments for either Dad or my girl. In the background, my husband worked his ridiculously long hours at a well-known Mountain View-based tech company.

After my father passed away unexpectedly this past October, I’ve felt a chasm between me and the rest of the world. My daughter, my husband, and I continue to notice a gaping hole in our home.

I’ve found that this Substack, unlike an isolated blank page, offers me an odd sense of connection to others who are likeminded. Even if I’m invisible — something I’ve sought most of my life — I love making my mark here.

My dad used to say, “You want to resemble a bouquet of flowers that leaves a wonderful aroma, not be like a pile of shit that makes the room reek long after it’s flushed away.” He presented himself to the world as a huge bouquet of dahlias, roses, lilies, and lilacs. And not in a superficial way — he truly wanted his life to enhance others because he was at his core so incredibly generous and warm.

Like him, I too want to leave a lasting memory that will serve to enrich others. So, I plan to continue to share more about Dad — his story, his journey, and the life he built from less than nothing. But I also intend and need to write about my own stories, which of course, are often intertwined with my family of origin. And this is very exciting to me.