Weeping and praying

Tomorrow and Tuesday constitute the toughest 48-hour period for me to get through. September 10th will be the second anniversary of my dad's death while the next day will be the six-year mark of the 9/11 attacks.

control her emotions. It's incredibly hard to put up with so much suffering and I don't blame her for her constant crying and lamenting. Unfortunately, such actions provide me with little solace and Tonight was very difficult in that we were praying all together yet my mom justifiably could notonly serves to feed the hidden anger I have over his passing.

Two years.

It's quite a long time.

I don't know with what strength, energy, or sanity we've managed to make it to this point. But even in my grief and sadness I'm glad that we've gotten to this point.

And hopeful that we will continue for many years to come.

Un año

Yesterday was a landmark day for this blog in that it was the one-year anniversary of its inception. In the course of the past year I’ve written about many things from politics to sports to my many foibles. In that sense I’ve accomplished one of the primary goals in the creation of this blog- to write about various different topics. That was why I named this blog Huevos Pericos- because it is a dish with a milieu of ingredients that combine well enough to enjoy as a delicious meal.

Yet at the same time I realize that the blog’s production has been inadequate. In one year I’ve only written around 70-something posts. Ideally, quality should trump quantity. (That’s the modus operandi of my favorite blog- forksplit). However I need to write more and more about the ideas that run rampant in my mind and hopefully I can accomplish this in the upcoming weeks and months.

This blog was created as a conduit for my many disparate and varied thoughts; a diary, if you will. That was why I chose to type up my first post on the 6-month anniversary of my father’s death. The past few days have been quite difficult because his passing away was predominant in my mind. Very little of the feelings of nostalgia and remembrance have changed since then. More so when I look at old pictures of him like I did yesterday as mom rummaged through some old boxes of photos yesterday.

There was one snapshot in particular that caught my eye- it was of him grilling dinner during one of our summer vacations camping in southern new jersey, circa 1990. He was standing over a small hibachi grill grinning from ear to ear wearing a tattered t-shirt and shorts. His expression glowed in the brightness of the mid-afternoon sun and one could tell that he was absolutely blissful. It was a photo that captured him at his very best- energetic, overjoyed, and generous. Mind you, there were occasions when he could be very mean, ornery, and cruel. But for now I prefer to remember the positive aspects about him and try to use that as a crutch to support my still-wounded psyche when I look back at the unfinished book which was his life.

So yeah, we’re one-year-old. Happy birthday to us.