A Playlist and a Memory

I was looking through some old files in online storage today. A text file, “chris top 20.txt” dated “Mar 5, 2009 at 10:03 PM”, caught my eye. I opened it and remembered its story. Christopher and I spoke of music often. That, along with technology, were our biggest common interests. We were talking of our favorite albums, and I asked him to make me a list of his top 20. This was the result. I remember listening to everything so I could better know what mattered to him.

I made a playlist in Apple Music today. 18 hours, 19 minutes. For the memory.

If you could go back in time…

In the past 4 years I’ve gone down this road a thousand times, searching for one thing, or any combination of one things I could have done or not done that might have prevented my son’s suicide. It’s part of processing trauma, and perhaps a requisite for moving forward, but in the end, it’s just shouting at windmills. For me, once I look up at the spinning blades and the clouds behind them I just long for one more moment with my son; the closure I cannot have.

Thirty-Four

Thirty-four. That’s how old you would be today. My mind and my heart are having an engaged conversation about what kind of person you would be. I’ve been playing our album this morning, the concert we attended at the Coca-Cola Roxy Theatre on Monday, October 29, 2007. I miss you.

Father’s Day 2023

Jack was a wonderful father. I remember him today in his prime, at his best, when he mattered most to those he loved, when he could still pretend he liked me. He loved me deeply, but I knew I was a disappointment to him. He was the bar I could not reach. Thinking of you today, Dad. I love you.