My better is better than your better.
Today would have been mom’s 66th birthday. She died 770 days ago. An important part of her brain almost certainly died about a year before that, but we didn’t know it at the time and haven’t been able to prove it since. Some incompetent doctors told me she had had a stroke. But they also sometimes told me she smoked cigarettes or was a blonde, so you should always remember that most doctors are just as stupid as everyone else and shouldn’t ever be trusted with anything important, like your mom’s life.
Anyway. I read an article written by a woman who had a stroke at 33 and it reminded me for the millionth time that my wife is (like my mother was) almost always right about everything, primarily that nothing is as valuable as a good meal and time spent with the ones you love. Do the dishes for your mom (or your wife) tonight and tell her how much you love her.
Happy birthday, mom. I miss you.
Originally posted September 18, 2001
It’s been one week.
So this is the first anniversary of sorts. And next week it will be two weeks. And then it will be a month since. And then it will be six months. And then a year. And then five years. And then ten years.
When all the networks went back to “regularly scheduled programming” it felt wrong. I’m not trying to pick a scab or dwell or anything like that, but it seems like it’s still right here, y’know? It seems like it just happened this morning. I don’t like the idea of “getting back to normal”. I’m not talking about some demented, bleeding-heart, “the people that died can’t go back to normal” empathy. I just mean that it doesn’t feel right to “go back to normal”. What the #$*@ is normal? Nothing is normal.
Continue reading …
My five favorite things about the Fall:
Five shows I remember watching at my grandparents’ house every day with my little sister after school while we waited for mom to come home from work: