Dear Matthew, Continue reading
Last weekend Mark’s parents visited with their dog Max, and at one point during the weekend I found spots of blood on the floor in our master bedroom hallway, and I first wondered if I’d cut myself shaving, but I didn’t, and all of the other humans swore they weren’t bleeding either, and I couldn’t recall a homicide having taken place, so we eventually decided that the blood was coming from one of the dogs. So we started playing Pin the Blood on the Appropriate Dog Orifice, so we were taking toilet paper to all of the dog orifices, and we all kind of prematurely concluded that Max was dying, because Howie is far more healthy. Continue reading
In the days surrounding the Fourth, I’ve had some pretty damn repetitive conversations. Continue reading
Apparently we have a new employee. I was just introduced to her. Or, I guess I should say, reintroduced to her. Continue reading
I wish I could say I’ve found meaning in my tragic loss of my child.
I wish I could say someday I will.
Oh you beg to differ?
You’re wrong. Continue reading
Matthew died in the middle of the hottest f#cking summer in history. I don’t know if this is true, but this is how I perceive it, how I’ll always remember it. It was at least 112 degrees and 140 percent humidity, and when we exited the hospital with a box of belongings through which, to this day, I have yet to sift, to start our most devastating walk to begin our most excruciating drive back to our old lives that we knew were over but hadn’t fully processed as such, the scorch engulfed us, making it feel even more surreal… It was almost as if the heavens had opened up just to give us one last middle finger upon our departure. Continue reading
The other day Mark took a picture of Joel and me, and upon seeing it I was like, “I look fat and tired.” And Mark, without thinking, responded, “Don’t we all?” It wasn’t exactly the response I’d hoped for, but it wasn’t entirely untrue either. Continue reading