We love you so
We were all having dinner the other night when the kid asked me, “What happened the night I was born?”
I glitched.
I couldn’t really remember.
That’s not wholly unexpected because a lotta people experience difficulty recalling moments before a traumatic event causea stress hormones interfering with memory encoding.
And, just a few days after my kid was born, I got the worst possible news that I could ever imagine so if that’s not trauma, I dunno what is.
The thing is that this is part of why I take so many pictures.
Cause I know I’ll forget things if I don’t.
Unfortunately, there are three years of pictures that I almost never look at because they wreck me.
I took the least amount of pictures the year the kid was born because it was one tragedy after another – even before Alison got sick.
It’s why I stopped writing the blog during that time. It was all so sad.
And it only got worse.
Took a lot in 2017 for reasons I’ll tell you about someday, maybe.
For this entry, I looked back to see if there were any pictures I could use or memories it might jar but they were all horrible, so I bailed.
I literally have like four pictures that don’t make me wanna dry heave.
This is one of the few I have that don’t.
Cancer is like the shitty gift that keeps on taking.
I’ve been thinking about my dad almost daily these days as well, for a buncha reasons that I’ll (also) probably tell you about onea these days.
I did remember one good thing, though.
Him: Well, do you remember what you first said to me?
Me: (nodding, smiling) Yeah, that I do. I said, “Hey, little guy. 爸爸媽媽好愛你. (Papa and mama love you so.)”
Location: another doctor’s office, being told my options
Mood: drenched
Music: thinking ’bout those days, these days (Spotify)
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