And apparently my compy doesn't like to post entire blogs either.
Dear Dad, Who knows why I'm putting this in my ancient blog? Why I'm posting it to the internet. Shouting into the void and simultaneously preserving this forever. I guess it's the easiest way to get my thoughts down. Typing can be easier than writing, and it helps me get the words out faster without editing myself. I think about you every day, and I feel like I have more questions than answers, Something moved me to fire up the blog and write, so here I am. It's been a little over seven months since you've been gone. Thinking about the days and months and years leading up to that point feel like a temporal version of the Stations of the Cross. I don't know where the Beginning of the End actually sits in that timeline, but Christmas feels like a good starting point. The last Christmas that we all spent together. Did the tree fall down at all that year? If it didn't, was it a sign that we missed? My birthday dinner in Newark: Mom usually covers the check,...
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