Finding the Fisher & Diaz Funeral Home

Back in 2009, I became obsessed with the show Six Feet Under. I was late to the party (the show first aired in 2005), which was a good thing for me because I was able to binge-watch the entire series on DVD and wasn’t forced to wait between seasons.

For those unfamiliar, Six Feet Under followed the Fisher family, who owned a funeral home in LA (originally called Fisher & Sons and later changed to Fisher & Diaz). The funeral home also served as the family home, which may seem a bit disturbing to anyone who HASN’T lived directly above a steady parade of dead bodies and funerals, but is something the family and their friends are totally used to.

Although I lived in Southern California at the time, I never thought to find out if the house used in the series as the Fisher funeral home was a real place. When I discovered that it was indeed real and actually was located in LA, I had already moved to Washington and didn’t think I would ever get a chance to see the house in person.

Last September, Bill and I ended up in LA while on our road trip, and I knew I had a chance to finally see the house. As we drove toward the beach one afternoon, we made a detour and found it.

Thanks to the Internet, I was able to find out that the 6,324sf house is located at 2302 W. 25th St. in LA. It was built in 1905 (according to Zillow) and is currently owned by the Filipino Federation of America.

There was no one around when Bill and I arrived at the house (another benefit of being behind the masses in discovering the show was that people weren’t exactly lined up to take photos of the house). We snapped several shots from the sidewalk before I decided I was going to go perch on the front porch for a photo.

Today Might as Well Be the Day 

Last week, I got it all wrong in my blog post.

This happens, because I am human. But I am here to own the fact that I got it all wrong, and to explain where I fell short.

I’ve had a week to re-read my post and mull it over. I so wish I had approached the topic completely differently. I admitted that I had lost my health and fitness passion, and that I had gained weight. I was incredibly negative about it, and I really wish I hadn’t been.

I wish I had said that it doesn’t matter if my old Halloween costumes don’t fit. It doesn’t matter if I’m a little heavier now, because I’m also way happier. I also failed to point out two important things: that while I was thinner, I was also in a spirit-draining and unfulfilling relationship and that I needed Zumba more for its family dynamic and the unconditional love of fellow class-goers than I ever did for weight loss, and that I was also my smallest when I was the least consumed with what I ate.

I’m not saying I don’t need to exercise now that I’ve found a loving and supportive relationship – far from it. What I am saying is that I mistakingly reverted to viewing exercise as a chore. It doesn’t have to be that way. Last week, I noticed myself feeling much more relaxed and energetic, and I know that’s because I started working out again.

I also wonder if I would still be heavier now if I hadn’t had a knee-jerk reaction to a little weight gain and so quickly gone on a diet. I had denounced diets, insisting they didn’t work, but I put on a few pounds and panicked. If I had continued to eat normally, would I have bounced back? I think it’s entirely possible that I started down this path again because I went against what I knew to be true all along and put my body back in diet hell.

I wish I had emphasized that gaining a little weight isn’t such a big deal after all. I’m not a failure because of my size. I’m not less worthy of love because of 15 extra pounds on my body.


The two girls above are both me. I am not less deserving of love now than I was in that photo on the left. That younger me is thinner, sure. Since that photo was taken, I’ve accomplished so many amazing things that you don’t see in photos. But the things that aren’t in the picture are what actually matter. The fact is that the woman on the left is SO much happier, so much braver, so much more in tune with what she wants and who she really is. Imagine what she could do if I quit being so mean to her all the time??

This isn’t the “aha, I’m cured, I love my body now!” post. Wouldn’t it be great if it were that easy? The reality is though, that this is just the start of changing my thoughts about myself. But all great movements have to start somewhere, and today is just as good a day as any.