I was driving the other day and something popped into my head — a song, or a childhood memory, or a question about a hazy memory — and I thought, “I should give Dad a call.” That’s the first time that’s happened since my dad died back in January. I’ve thought about him plenty, of course, actively and intentionally but also in that unpredictable way that thoughts and memories just drift into your head. This was the first time, though, that I’d forgotten, if only for a moment, that he is gone.
Memories of flying
If it helps, I read somewhere that we remember unhappy times better than happy times. So here’s to being human 🧘♂️