Last September, before I called you from buried deep inside a closet hiding under old t-shirts in Connecticut, before that call, I was in Santa Fe for the pre-wedding preparations of my dear friend's wedding. You know what pre-wedding preparations in Santa Fe are like all too well. Especially when you add to it an impossible decision.
Eleven year-old Simon, my surrogate nephew, invited me over to his house. I collapsed on the couch, anxious and stressed out. And then he played me this.
I thought of you then. And I'm thinking of you now, on your birthday, so many thousands of miles away. We're not canceling April. We're going to make every week count. I made this for us.