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<p>Dear Dad, On Saturday, G3 bridged over from Cub Scouts to Boy Scouts. Due to the pandemic, and restrictions on indoor gatherings, they did not have a Blue and Gold Dinner. The Cub Scout master had a short ceremony for the boys outside at Duke Island Park. It was freezing and snow covered the ground, [&hellip;]</p>

<p>Dear Dad,&nbsp; It snowed in Mattituck today. The snow began falling as we started our morning homeschool lessons. By noon, the snow must have been three or four inches deep — light and fluffy. I promised G3 that as soon as he finished today’s classes we could go outside to play. You know how much [&hellip;]</p>

<p>I am trying really hard to pretend that today is not Ash Wednesday, but I have not been very successful. <a href="http://causticfrolic.org/nonfiction/lent/?fbclid=IwAR3Y91fQSNxV3MJ57EX5mUjMOHNlj1f_YB8g2H81wgHXYEUaGuPmT6mrmEE" rel="nofollow">http://causticfrolic.org/nonfiction/lent/?fbclid=IwAR3Y91fQSNxV3MJ57EX5mUjMOHNlj1f_YB8g2H81wgHXYEUaGuPmT6mrmEE</a></p>

<p>Dear Dad, I had planned to pick Mom up on Saturday to take her to Mattituck, but she was having a mass said for you on Sunday — the ten month anniversary of your death — and she wanted to go. So I told her I’d pick her up on Sunday instead. Since we were [&hellip;]</p>

<p>Today is a doubly bad day for Mom. Not only does it mark 10 months since Dad died. It is her first Valentine’s day in nearly 50 years without him.&nbsp; Ten months! I can’t believe he has been gone that long. It still feels so unreal. I’ve been watching WandaVision with my son. A few [&hellip;]</p>

<p>As you already know, my son begrudging read Born A Crime by Trevor Noah for English class. He rebelled against it. He didn’t want to like it, but his laugher, as he read, told me that he didn’t quite hate it as much as he wanted to. Not even close. When he finished the book, [&hellip;]</p>

<p>Dear Dad, This afternoon, I tested for and earned my black belt in taekwondo. Oh how I wish you could have been here to watch. During my whole life you had been my biggest fan when it came to sports. You were always there in the stands cheering me on. Just knowing you were there, [&hellip;]</p>

<p>Dear Dad, Last year, while you and Mom were on that fateful cruise in South America, the founder and editor of Ovunque Siamo — an Italian-American Literary Journal — asked me to be the book review editor. It’s a non-salaried position, but an honor to do it. I was excited and I accepted the position. [&hellip;]</p>

<p>Writing essays is boring. My son makes that declaration at least once a day, if not more. I admit, I have put far more emphasis on writing than most teachers. There are several reasons for this. The primary one being, I am a writer. I enjoy the process of expressing myself through words and I [&hellip;]</p>

<p>My son will always remember this move — the first night in his new home. Yesterday, after racing against the weather we settled in for the blizzard. Overnight, we got more than a foot of snow and when we woke up it was still snowing. I canceled school, giving my son a snow day and [&hellip;]</p>

<p>(I wrote this Sunday night but I am delayed in posting because we didn&#8217;t have cable until ten minutes ago.) Dear Dad, We moved. We finally got out of the toxic environment of our condo. I feel a sense of freedom as if I am no longer stuck. I’m still in New Jersey, and I’m [&hellip;]</p>

<p>Dear Dad, G3 competed in a virtual tournament today. I wish you were here. You and Mom would have been able to watch via Zoom. You don’t know what Zoom is. You got sick before it became a thing. It is a way for people to interact on-line. Mom is still learning the basics of [&hellip;]</p>

<p>When I told G3 that I would be homeschooling him this year, he declared that for English class he only wanted to read classics. Great, I thought, until I really thought about it. The classics were written predominantly by dead white men. As much as I loved his idea, I couldn’t go against my own [&hellip;]</p>

<p>This evening, I came home from the archery range and before plugging my phone in, I checked facebook. As I was scrolling, I learned that my dad’s cousin’s wife’s mother died this morning from COVID. I’ve only recently connected with Dad’s extended family, and only last month did I meet his cousin and his cousin’s [&hellip;]</p>

<p>Dear Dad, Yesterday would have made you very happy. You would have enjoyed Biden’s Inauguration. I know how much you wanted him to be president. Five years ago, you were disappointed when he opted not to run for president. You were upset because you thought the DNC had discouraged him. “It’s a woman’s turn,” you [&hellip;]</p>

<p>Two weeks ago, on the morning of January 6, I opened G3’s social studies textbook to begin our lesson of the day. It just so happened that we had recently finished the unit on the American Revolution and were now studying the Constitutional Convention. My son — having watched Hamilton, gone to the National Archives [&hellip;]</p>

<p>It was a year ago — last Martin Luther King Day — that my son saw his grandfather for the last time. We drove to Queens on Saturday afternoon after our taekwondo classes. By the time we got on the road, it was snowing. By the time we reached the bridge it was coming down [&hellip;]</p>

<p>After eleven days off for winter break, G3 found it difficult to return to our homeschool routine this morning. The fact that he had trouble falling asleep last night didn’t help. When we arrived at our New Jersey classroom, he was tired, cranky, and in absolutely no mood to do anything academic. Around noon, we [&hellip;]</p>

<p>Overall, my son seemed to be handling his grandfather’s death rather well. We had gotten through several holidays, and Dad’d death didn’t seem to blight them for him as they did for me and Mom. Then we rang in a new year, wished him a happy birthday, and the sorrow settled in. Without being able [&hellip;]</p>

<p>For the last several years, New Year’s Eve has been a day of stress. A day to clean, shop, decorate, and prepare for my son’s birthday party. Every year on his birthday — New Year’s Day — we had a party from him in which his grandparents would visit. Every year, my parents looked forward [&hellip;]</p>