All Posts

<p>I didn’t sleep much last night. I woke up thinking about Dad and couldn’t fall back to sleep. I didn’t sleep well last summer either while we were away. Maybe it’s because being on vacation reminds me of Dad and all the fun times we had when I was a kid. Even now — while [&hellip;]</p>

<p>Years ago, G3 decided he wanted to visit every president’s house. Therefore, on every trip we look for which presidents had a home where we are traveling. Last summer, we wanted to detour to Springfield to see Lincoln’s home, but it was closed due to COVID. This year, it was our first stop. Inside the [&hellip;]</p>

<p>Dear Dad, The realtor is coming tomorrow so that Mom can sign the required paperwork. She is definitely going through with it. She is selling your house. The house you promised would always be here for me. Mom knows I’m not happy about it. We had a terrible fight this morning. She told me if [&hellip;]</p>

<p>Dear Dad, Sunday will be Father’s Day, our second one without you. Mom, G3, and I are in Mattituck this week. It appears that the Strawberry Festival — which had been canceled last year due to COVID — will take place this weekend. We drove passed it today and it made me very sad. You [&hellip;]</p>

<p>Dear Dad, Today was bittersweet. I haven’t stopped missing you since you died, but today, not having you here was particularly hard. In February of 2020, you couldn’t come to G3’s taekwondo tournament out in Pennsylvania. You and Mom were getting ready for your cruise through Patagonia and you didn’t want to go to a [&hellip;]</p>

<p>This morning, my son completed his final assignment, so he is officially finished with school for the year. He is more than ready for sixth grade.&nbsp; For his final essay, he needed to argue who is better with a bow and arrow: Katniss Everdeen or Hawkeye. There was never a doubt in my son’s opinion. [&hellip;]</p>

<p>Several people have asked me, “When’s the last day of school for G3.” Even he wanted to know when the last day is. It’s how society trains us. School starts the day after Labor Day and it ends on a specific date sometime in June. (Yes, I am aware that different parts of the country [&hellip;]</p>

<p>Over the long weekend, New Jersey slashed its capacity rules and tossed its mask mandate. It’s as if the virus has suddenly vanished, as if it is no longer a threat anywhere to anyone. Have people stopped dying? Listening to the news, one might think that is the case, but a simple Google search revealed [&hellip;]</p>

<p>Dear Dad, All weekend I could hear you laughing at me. Since March, we had plans to go camping in Lackawanna State Park during Memorial Day Weekend with the C—- family. Initially, the forecast called for rain only on Friday. One day of rain wouldn’t have been too bad — we’ve endured rain before. However, [&hellip;]</p>

<p>Dear Dad, It has been a long time since I’ve had anything published. But today, Margate Bookie launched their new zine — Reset. Included in the issue is an essay about you titled “Crumb Cake.” Not only did they accept my work, the editor asked me to be part of the launch party. Despite my [&hellip;]</p>

<p>Pirates have always intrigued my son. When he was in kindergarten, to celebrate the first hundred days of school, he had to do a project in which he was asked to present one hundred of an object of his choice. He chose pirates. We bought bags full of kiddie plastic pirate coins. I then helped [&hellip;]</p>

<p>Last month, on one of our field trip days, when G3 and I set school aside and went out to have fun instead, we took a trip to Montauk. While there, we took a short hike through Montauk Point State Park. As we were walking, we came to one spot where there was a pool [&hellip;]</p>

<p>&#8220;Very nice.&#8221; That’s what Dad used to say all the time. It was just about the only compliment I could expect. When I posted my photography, he commented, “very nice.” When I got an essay or story published, he’d read it and respond, “very nice.” But to me, “nice” was bland. It’s what people said [&hellip;]</p>

<p>Today, I drove into Queens to visit Mom for the afternoon. I didn’t want her to be alone for Mother’s Day. In our pre-COVID life, I would often bring my son to visit her the weekend before or the week after Mother’s Day so that we could spend more than just a few hours together. [&hellip;]</p>

<p>It is 10:30 at night and my neighbor is having another party. There are at least a dozen kids — late teens or early twenties — gathered around a fire pit talking loudly, getting drunk, and blaring music. I’m pissed off because I’d like to go to sleep. My allergies are worse today than they [&hellip;]</p>

<p>My son is so done with school. He and I are in much need of some time off. Yesterday was rough. We ended up calling it quits early in the school day because he was mopey and cranky. He asked me when the last day of school will be. I told him I don’t have [&hellip;]</p>

<p>“You do realize that you’ve made me write more than any other teacher. In real school, I only had to write three essays, at most, every year. This year, you’ve made me write twenty-one. TWENTY-ONE! All I do is write. And I’m NOT in college.” This has become my son’s mantra. Every day he grumbles, [&hellip;]</p>

<p>Since Dad died, I’ve often found myself in a position where I feel I have to choose between being a good daughter and being a good mother. No matter which I choose, at any given moment, I end up feeling guilty. I’m the type of person who often tries to do the ‘right thing,’ but [&hellip;]</p>

<p>For the last several months G3 has been working on a short story. It was not an assignment, just something he felt driven to write. Every day, at his insistence, school begins with twenty minutes (although sometimes he requests extra time) of free writing. He had been using that time to work on what he [&hellip;]</p>