I look at Bob and wish I had a box too. We all need a box.
The world, well, this country in particular, becomes more frightening and heartbreaking every day. I look at the boys and shake my head and tell them I don't understand how this can be our country. But it is. Is this the ripping off of the bandaid? Maybe. Can we find a positive way out? I don't know. I fear for my boys and can't imagine the fear I would have if they were black.
I have a knot in my stomach about everything…from the state of the world, to Owen's missing wallet, to chemo again on Monday after a round that was a bit harder for Ernie this time. It's his birthday tomorrow and it's hard for him to feel celebratory in any way. He has been so strong through all this but sometimes it just hits.
I'm trying. I'm making potato salad today as it's always better the next day and it's one of his favorite things on earth. I got him signed up for Robyn Hitchcock's Patreon and ordered several records he'd been wanting. It's not as though we ever do big birthday celebrations generally (well, except for CynthiaFest and Hardly Strictly Ernie I suppose) but it's hard to make this one seem celebratory. Just hard.