For all those pleasures of the domestic, however, I've been feeling a little off. But I couldn't place the feeling. When I went to check the date, though, it hit me. Today is an anniversary I'd rather not remember, one of the worst days of my life. Four years ago we tucked Skylar into bed as if everything were normal, cried together on the floor in the front room, called Kim's mom to come sit on the couch, and got in the car for the longest drive down Oracle that I ever hope to experience.How does that saying go? You can always find room for new love in your heart, but nothing fills the space left behind by the departure of a loved one. Tibbs, we're happy here. Thing One has taken over many of your old habits. Thing Two sits on the sofa with Skylar the way you used to. And our new Siamese is destined to do great things to further the feistiness of the Nicolini-Bertsch household, following ably in your riot-grrl pawprints. Still, not a day goes by without Kim and I missing you. Even Skylar, who was so young when you left, mentions you all the time. And you're still on our voicemail greeting too.
Imagine this: Kim is singing her caterwauling version of Hole's "Miss World" with the lyrics she invented just for you: "I am gray and fat/I've got bad breath." You're gnawing on her head deliriously. Skylar is laughing so hard it sounds like she might burst. I've got the video camera in one hand and your favorite belt in the other. That's how what I want you to remember. That's what I want to remember. March 8th? Let's use the date to remember, but also remember what we want to forget.