Reading Pains

Although I'm much closer to the beginning of Will Kostakis' The Sidekicks than I am the end I can already tell that this book is gonna cost me something along the way.

"...I want to say Isaac lived a full life and retroactively justify him not being here by saying he lived more in his sixteen years than most ever would, but that isn't true. He didn't live enough, he didn't love enough, he didn't see enough, and if there's a lesson in all this—do more. You don't know how long you have. Do what makes you happy. Live, love and be remarkable."

All Over Again

I had a sudden urge to call my mom today.

And for one brief moment I'd forgotten it wasn't possible.

I was scanning a stack of papers at work and it reminded me of a summer job I had digitizing old property documents at her title insurance company when I was in high school. I would get home at night and she'd ask me how my day had gone and I would complain about how crappy their scanner was and today I was excited to call her up to celebrate the recent advances in scanning technology because it would have made her smile.

Then I remembered I couldn't.

And it was like losing her all over again.

I think that's been the hardest part about my mom dying, the fact that she comes back all the time, but only in ways that will never be enough.

A Sign at the Dog Park

I spotted the sign below on the announcements board at our dog park this afternoon.

Said sign reads:

We are devastated to announce our beloved Gus died suddenly last weekend. He was eight.

He was a fun-loving, squirrel-obsessed, energetic and joyful dog. We miss him greatly.

We are asking any and all who knew him to join us here on Sunday, Jan. 14, at 3 to raise a glass in his memory.

Patty, Mark & Marina

Dog people are the best people.

Rest in peace, Gus.