Monthly Archives: July 2025

Subway malfunctions and flood warnings

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I love the New York City subway system. Sure, it has its faults as any public transit system would, but it’s really hard to hate it given that it runs 24 hours a day, seven days a week, and you can rely on it to get to most places throughout the four boroughs (sorry, Staten Island). Because of the New York City subway system, I have had zero reason to drive for the last seventeen years, so that makes me super, duper happy!

But then there come the times when the subway does, in fact, malfunction, and you are left wondering to yourself, what the fuck is actually going on here, and how did a 13-minute subway ride become a two-hour commuting nightmare? The last three days, there have been power outages, likely due to high heat/hot weather, at the West 4th Street station. This has meant that all trains going through it, so the A, C, E, B, D, F, and M trains, have been negatively impacted. It took Chris multiple line changes and walking to different stops to get home today from dropping Kaia off at summer camp — a total of two hours of commuting time.

I was cognizant of this when I went to pick her up later in the day. I went into the Columbus Circle subway station and checked the times. The status board said it would take about five minutes for the next B/D train to arrive. It ended up taking longer than that, plus a stall right before West 4th Street. I still arrived at her school at about the same time I usually do for pickup. Unfortunately, she was not there when I came, though. The teacher at the school answered the door to let me know that the bus was stuck in traffic. Several classes had gone on a farm field trip to Melville out in Long Island, including Kaia’s. They left early given the rain/flood warnings this afternoon, but due to multiple unanticipated road closures, they were running behind. The bus was not expected to be back for another thirty-plus minutes.

Of course I was annoyed, but it was out of their control even when they intentionally left the farm early, and nothing else could be done. So I walked around for a bit and popped into a bakery a few blocks away to pick up a pork floss onigiri for Kaia, as I knew she’d be hungry given we’d be late for our usual dinner time at home. I stopped by a tamal shop I noticed a couple months ago when I walked by it to pick up some horchata for myself to stay hydrated, plus two tamales to go. It made me realize that while I’ve spent the last year really exploring Chinatown deeply, I have really neglected the Lower East Side. It’s right next to Chinatown, and it also has endless delicious things to check out. So I made a mental note to self on this.

The bus finally came at around the time the teacher estimated. I told Kaia we had to take a different train at a different stop to get home, and this would necessitate more walking. She did perfectly fine when we went to Canal and took the yellow trains home. But I knew she’d eventually whine and whinge on the walk from the 57th Street yellow train stop to home given it was more after-school walking than she was used to. She happily nibbled her onigiri during the entire subway ride uptown.

We didn’t get home until past 6:30 when we usually get home from school between 5:30-5:45. But in the end, we got her fed, showered, read to, and sleeping. It was definitely tiring, but it definitely made our after-school routine a bit more exciting for Kaia, as it wasn’t as predictable. Plus, we both got extra steps in!

An unexpectedly great dining experience in Midtown Manhattan tonight

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I had made a 6pm reservation for dinner with a female friend before our Summer for the City at Lincoln Center Festival Orchestra show. Our show was at 7:30pm, so I knew we were going to be tight on time for dinner given we would be about a 13-minute walk from David Geffen Hall. I arrived about two minutes before 6pm and checked in with the hostess, who asked me if I’d like to be seated at the table to wait for my friend. I perked up: wait, what? She was actually going to seat me before my “whole party was present”? I was already pleasantly surprised by this given that at most Manhattan restaurants, especially ones as new and trendy as this one, they refuse to seat you until your whole party was present. I got seated, and my friend came about two minutes later.

When our server came, he checked in to see if we wanted to order drinks. We said we needed a few minutes to review the menu. And unlike at other new, trendy Manhattan restaurants, he didn’t come check on us until we asked him to come over. We put in our full order, including drinks. They spaced out our starter from our mains. They didn’t bring my friend her drink until the food arrived, just as she requested. Our server came by and checked on us just once to see that the food and drinks were to our liking. The service was attentive without hovering, and they were not even remotely pushy to get us in and out at all. We had to cut our meal short given tight time to walk to Lincoln Center for our show, but I was just so surprised by how good the service was and how I never felt rushed at all.

Plus, the food was delicious. We ate at BKK, a “Bangkok meets New York” style fusion restaurant that had opened just a few months ago. Our drinks were perfect and well made. The papaya salad was truly “Thai spicy” as we asked for, and as the server and staff complied with. We shared two mains: the crab fried rice and the “brisket kee mao.” The crab tasted like it was freshly plucked out of the shell, and the brisket, so a fancy version of pad kee mao, was melt-in-your-mouth tender. Of course, the prices were elevated given the trendiness of the restaurant plus the location, but given the freshness of the food and the flavors, I think it was most definitely worth it.

Now, why can’t all post-pandemic Manhattan dining experiences be like this? After more than a handful of rushed experiences with servers who have put really obvious pressure on my dining partner (usually a female friend) to order, eat, and get the hell out while at many new-ish, trendy restaurants in Manhattan, this was a truly positive and delightful dining experience, especially given the location in midtown.

Fashion choices and changes over the years

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Ten or fifteen years ago, during hot summer weather, you’d never see me wearing a pair of pants. That was a huge no-no for me. In the summer, all you’d see me in was dresses, skirts, and short shorts. The idea of wearing pants during the summer made me think of having clothes stick to my skin and make me feel icky. But then in 2018, we had a trip planned to India during June-July, when I knew that I’d need to maximize non-sticking clothing as much as possible. So in preparation for that trip, I purchased two pairs of cropped linen pants after hearing about how linen was the perfect warm-weather material for coverage while also keeping cool. Only one of those two pairs has lasted until today, but my love for linen has stayed with me. Now when I think of warm-weather clothing, especially if I am buying something new for myself, all I can think about is linen, linen, and linen… And maybe occasionally some cotton.

Ignorantly though, I actually didn’t really know what “linen” meant back then. I just recently learned that linen is made from flax, a fast growing plant that traps carbon and doesn’t require fertilizer, pesticides, or even much water. Almost the entire flax plant can be used to make clothing, so there’s almost no waste left over. In addition, the majority of flax is grown in Europe and thus processed there into clothing, which means that there are higher standards for safety as well as eco-friendliness.

So this summer, I’ve been wearing my linen pants a lot more often not just to keep cool, but also for leg coverage so that I don’t get unnecessary sun exposure, but also so that I don’t have to keep applying and reapplying sunscreen. I recently got a new pair of wide white cargo pants that are made of cotton, but it’s so lightweight that it almost feels like linen. I wore them the last two days, and they really feel perfect for the 90s-plus F weather we’ve been experiencing. They are wide-legged and long, and funnily enough, they actually give me an elongated look. This says a lot given that I am only 5’3″. I got a few compliments on the pants, and even when Pookster saw me wear them for the first time, she said, “Ooh, new pants? So pretty, mumma!” I had shied away from purchasing white white clothing for years, but then with the helpful tip from our former nanny on magic blue soap, I have realized that with a little maintenance from the beginning, I can actually safely keep my whites super white without the toxic, awful-smelling assistance of bleach!

So linen material, white as a color to wear again, and loose, wide-cut pants are things I’ve embraced in my late 30s that I never really thought I’d care about in my 20s. The main theme, though, is that I’m valuing comfort and hoping that it all still looks good on me. This is what happens with age – prioritizing comfort and versatility above all!

Americans need a Slip, Slop, Slap! campaign to protect themselves from the sun year round because they are failing at sun protection

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The first half of this week, it’s going to be quite the scorcher here in New York City. We’re seeing temperatures ranging from 92-98 degrees F, so we’ll all likely be finding reasons to stay indoors and blast our AC units (and drive up our Con Edison bills annoyingly). I took a short walk before hopping on a train slightly south of where we live to get some extra steps in. I took a yellow train to get down to Chinatown to pick up Pookster from summer camp this late afternoon. Everywhere I walked, whether it was around Columbus Circle, Times Square, SoHo, or Chinatown, I saw people sunburnt. Men with receding hairlines had the tops of their heads cherry red. I saw multiple men and women of various skin tones burnt on their cheeks, noses, shoulders, chests, and upper backs. It was pretty infuriating to see that people were not doing their due diligence to protect themselves from the sun.

The thing that bothers me pretty much every May as Memorial Day and summer grow closer here in the Northern Hemisphere is that most Americans seem to think that you only need to apply sunscreen… DURING THE SUMMER. If you walk into any Duane Reade or CVS or equivalent, you see all the sunscreen bottles front and center when you walk in. Sales go on at stores for sunscreen. It’s as though the concept of sunscreen is just for summer, and irrelevant any other time of the year. This is absolutely NOT TRUE AT ALL. The sun is shining its powerful rays onto your skin, eyes, and hair every single day, cloudy or not cloudy, and thus putting you at risk of premature wrinkles, sun spots, sun burn, and potentially even skin cancer. It’s even getting to you when you are indoors, assuming where you are has windows, because it’s shining through windows, plus you’re still getting exposed to indirect sunlight! Most people here do not think about applying sunscreen when it’s cloudy or not summer. It’s actually pretty scary how misinformed the average American is about the dangers of sun exposure.

Here in the U.S., we could do with a little lesson from our Southern Hemisphere friends in Australia. The Australian Cancer Council has a SunSmart campaign that’s stuck with our Down Under neighbors in a pretty simple slogan: Slip, Slop, Slap, (Seek, Slide). The first three S’s are seen on signs pretty frequently when you are walking around shops, storefronts, and beaches in Australia. They refer to Slip (on a cover for your skin, like sleeves or long pants), Slop (on high SPF sunscreen, and reapply when in the water, sweating, or every 2-4 hours if outside), Slap (on a wide-brimmed hat); the last two refer to Seek(ing shade/cover when possible) and Slide(ing on sunglasses to protect your eyes).

I was thinking about this slogan while also remembering Chris’s dad’s semi-frequent comment when he comes to visit us in the States every spring. Chris’s parents are very religious with wearing hats outside and seeking shade. Many times while going out, he will take a look at (who we assume are) Americans around us, and he will ask if Americans just don’t wear hats that often. And well, he’s kind of right: on any day here, regardless of what season it is, (and actually especially during the summer), the people who are walking the streets of New York wearing hats are not the majority at all. As I wore my wide-brimmed wrap-around sun visor to pick up Kaia today on this 90-plus-degree F day, I realized that I was still in the minority for wearing a hat. Even when I was in Chinatown, where there tends to be more Asians, and Asian people in general are more protective over their skin getting exposed to UV rays, people wearing hats were not the majority. We don’t have a fraction of the “Slip, Slop, Slap!” campaign happening here in the U.S., but we really should!

I told my friend and her husband on Saturday when we met that I have zero shame for my wide-brimmed sun visor, and I’m pretty darn proud to wear it now. I’m turning 40 in the next six months, and I have no reason to be embarrassed for taking care of my skin health. And I mean it!

Building friends and play dates

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While living in New York, what I’ve always wanted was a friend who lived walking distance who I can just say, “Hey, are you free? Want to grab coffee/take a walk in the park?” During this whole time I’ve lived in New York, I’ve only ever had one real friend who lived within walking distance, and frankly, we never had that type of relationship with each other. We probably saw each other at the same frequency we’d see each other if we didn’t live close by.

When we lived in this building, and especially after Kaia was born, I thought it would be amazing if I could make other mom or dad friends in the building. This… was a desire, but it barely came into fruition. In my mind, this seemed like an ideal setup: our kids could play together and entertain themselves while we’d have adult conversation or meals. I attempted a friendship with at least three different parents in the building. One was a dad, who has since moved out, but he was the most reciprocal. He actually did reach out to do play dates, but unfortunately his son (two months older than Kaia) and Kaia did NOT get along (his son wanted to throw toys at and hit Kaia, and Kaia did not like him). The second was a mom who had a son about four months younger than Kaia. I tried reaching out a few times to set up play dates, and she always said she was busy, so we never actually did an official play date. She never reached out unless she had childcare or kid product questions (fun). The third is someone I met at the gym; we’re both called “gym rats” by our building trainer because we’re always at the gym every weekday. We were quite friendly. She gave a baby gift when Kaia was born and gave me endless suggestions for baby products and stores because she had friends having babies (and she was doing IVF, which she later revealed). We invited her to our Thanksgiving meal just a couple weeks before Kaia was born. I was invited to both her baby showers and attended the first one. But when I’ve tried to schedule play dates with our kids, it’s never worked. Again, she also has never reached out to arrange any date. I figured that I should just let the idea go and came to the conclusion I was just never going to make nearby parent friends.

Then earlier this year, I took Kaia to the pool on our roof, and we happened to swim with a mom who had a son about five months younger than Kaia. We made some small talk, and since she didn’t have her phone, she asked me to leave my name and number with the lifeguard, and she’d contact me for a future play date. I didn’t think anything of it because of my previous experiences attempting to meet up with other neighbors for play dates. But then about three days later, she sent me a message on Whatspp and asked to arrange a play date in the coming weeks. Since then, we’ve had three play dates — one at the play room/library, one at the pool, and the most recent one was today, when we started at the pool; after, I invited them over to our place for snacks (I made whole grain chocolate banana mini muffins for the kids, plus I had Peruvian dark chocolate to share, along with some fruit and roasted sweet potatoes for the kids). The kids played with Kaia’s toys; Kaia was really sweet and actually laid out a lot of her favorite toys and arranged them “just so” so that Hugo could decide which toys he wanted to play with alongside her. They fought over her Peppa Pig bus and ice cream truck. They got excited and started squealing when we took some balloons out for blowing up. And they eventually started bonding over Kaia’s book collection, when they spent a good 40 minutes just reading books together, sharing stories, and taking turns with books over and over. While they played, we chatted about work, travel, different countries and cultures, and local restaurants and play areas.

Our neighbor’s work and travel schedule is a bit hectic for the next couple months, so our next play date isn’t until the beginning of October; she wanted to confirm while we were together and put it in her calendar so she didn’t forget, which I really appreciate. But it feels really good to finally have a friend in the building who has a child similar in age to Kaia who I can enjoy spending time with. It took a while, but it has finally happened! I’ve made a real neighbor friend (with a child!).

A gem of a bakery in Ridgewood, Queens

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We had our brunch date with my friend and her husband today, and given our babysitter cancelled on us and all our backups were occupied, we took Kaia with us to Ridgewood, Queens, where the restaurant is. It ended up working out really well because Kaia had such a nice surprise treat at a local bakery we visited.

Rudy’s Pastry Shop is an institution in Ridgewood and has been around since about 1934. They started out as a German bakery back then, but now they do a whole array of different, delicious cakes and pastries (even including gluten free!). Chris found out about it and added to our to-try list. We came in for the cannoli and alfajores. I knew this would be a good spot for cannoli once I saw an entire glass case full of unfilled cannoli shells. YES, cannolis should be filled to order for freshness and for the shell to stay crisp! We got a large chocolate dipped one, which includes mini chocolate chips stirred in the fresh ricotta filling. We have had a number of incredible cannolis in New York, most notably off Arthur Avenue in the Bronx and in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, but now, we have an excellent spot in Queens to add to our cannoli list! This one had perfectly whipped ricotta with just enough sweetness; the shell was thin, really crisp, and had the perfect crunchy texture. Even Kaia, who usually doesn’t like “cheesy” things, kept dipping her finger into the ricotta and eating more and more of it. And of course, she loved the cannoli shell.

Rudy’s has a comfortable seating area towards the back of the bakery, where we sat down briefly to enjoy our oversized cannoli. Behind us, there was a small table of elementary school-aged kids and some adults, piping cupcakes with pastry piping bags and topping them with sprinkles. I thought it was such a cute activity and figured they must be participating in some mini class organized by the bakery. But then out of nowhere, the owner Toni came by and asked if Kaia would like a mini cupcake piping lesson. She asked if my toddler would prefer vanilla or chocolate. Of course, we said Kaia would love chocolate. Kaia’s face lit up like a little bulb, as she heard she was getting a chocolate cupcake! With that, Toni came over to our table with a chocolate cupcake, a little piping bag already filled with fresh buttercream, a cup of rainbow sprinkles, and a to-go cupcake container. And just like that, Kaia had her very first cupcake/frosting piping lesson with this very sweet and kind owner; if only I had recorded more of her facial expressions when Toni came and presented the cupcake, the piper, and the rainbow sprinkles on our table!! Toni was so sweet, showing her patiently how to pipe and control the tip. She talked through the motions and guided Kaia’s fingers along the piping bag to pipe just the right amount of buttercream frosting onto the top of the cupcake. Shockingly, this whole experience and all the ingredients were totally on the house! Toni just kept saying how much the kids love it, and so she loves doing this for them. She said it wasn’t just a business; it was about building community. We were so touched.

I am grateful for the kindness and generosity of the owner of Rudy’s Pastry Shop. We’ve never had this type of hospitality in any establishment with Kaia to date. Kaia has been given endless freebies, little treats, and kindnesses pretty much everywhere that we’ve repeatedly been shocked by. But this one, single experience truly takes the cake (literally)! When we’re back in Ridgewood, we will most definitely be back here. I’d also love to come back and try their famous Black Forest cake, which seems to get rave reviews. When I realized their Black Forest cake was one of their signature items, it actually made me a little sad because I remember how much Ed liked this cake. I always thought the cake was overrated, but maybe it was because I never had a really good one? But I have a feeling that Rudy’s makes it the way it’s supposed to be, in classic German fashion.

Babysitter cancels, and all back-ups are unavailable

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We had plans to have brunch in Ridgewood, Queens, this Saturday with my friend and her husband. They planned to leave their two kids at home with my friend’s mom while they caught up with us. When Chris heard this, he said that it felt uneven and that we should get a babysitter, too, so that we could actually enjoy brunch. I hesitated, but I figured it wouldn’t be the worst idea to have a different babysitting experience and get one during the day time. So I asked our usual babysitter several weeks ago, and she agreed to come.

Unfortunately, it didn’t work out. She texted on Tuesday, saying a “family emergency” came up, and she wouldn’t be available that day anymore. Granted, she could easily have lied and just got an invite to the Hamptons or Jersey Shore, but regardless, she was not going to be free, and that was all I really needed to know.

I immediately texted my second babysitter backup. She said she already had plans and wouldn’t be free until past 4pm. I told Chris this, and he contacted his babysitter contact, who ended up being out of town. Finally, I texted a former daycare teacher if she could babysit, but she actually works her regular job on Saturdays now! So we’re totally out of luck. In the end, we’ll have to take Kaia to brunch with us… and likely give her more screen time at the table than we’d ideally like.

Oh, the joys of lack of decent childcare options when you really need them!

Three going on thirteen and avoiding potential head injuries

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Ever since we got back from South America, it’s like we are at peak level of “three going on thirteen/three-nager” land with Kaia. Every single thing I do seems to piss her off. When I try to wake her up in the morning, she screams and cries and refuses to eat breakfast. When I want to brush her teeth or comb her hair, she screams and runs away. Even at night when I try to get her up to pee at midnight, she might let me take her to pee, but then she throws a fit when it’s time to wipe.

Today after dinner, she asked if she could do a video chat with Chris’s parents, but he said no. This was the beginning of her tantrum, and it only got worse when it was time for me to give her a shower. I stripped her while she thrashed around. And then when it was time to put her in the bathtub, she refused to stand up and tried to lie down as best as she could. I had to keep trying to protect her head so that she didn’t accidentally bash it in while tantrumming. She ended up sitting almost the entire bath. Somehow, I successfully cleaned all parts of her despite her screaming, crying, and thrashing around almost the whole time. I was pretty proud of myself.

Being a parent is rewarding, but it’s also really thankless work that can be extremely tough. In moments when she’s screaming and crying and thrashing around everywhere and almost self-inflicting bodily harm, I have to try really hard to stay centered and not flip out or just give up. All I have to say is… I have no idea how people go through these tough phases with multiple kids — no idea.

When he doesn’t visit for a long time.

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For years after Ed’s passing, whenever the date of his death anniversary or his birthday would come, I’d get this sneaking feeling that he’d come visit me. It might be in my dreams. He might come to me in some other form, whether it’s through a message sent from someone, a ray of light through the window, or a gust of wind on a street. But when it would happen, I’d know it was him. Or at least, I’d think it was him. But most of all, I always longed to see him in my dreams because that would actually feel the most real. I tend to have extremely vivid dreams, so oftentimes when I am dreaming, it legitimately feels like it’s really happening. But as the years have gone on, I realize that this delusional thought that he will “visit” really is just that — a desired delusion of mine. And as each year passes, it makes me more and more sad. As each year passes, I get older and older, further away from the age I was when my brother died, further away from knowing what it was like to really know him and love him in the flesh.

In some ways, Ed was a really easy person to love. He was eager to please. He showed love and affection easily and eagerly. He is like the youngest, most innocent children of the world with their simple desires: he just wanted love, presence, and attention. If you gave him that, or even a smidgen of a semblance of that, he’d love you forever and always treat you well. But in other ways, he was a difficult person to love, and an especially hard person to get to know. Because of his depression and anxiety, it was hard to have a really deeply felt, thoughtful conversation with him that went beyond the surface. He also didn’t want to share that much with too many people because he was scared of being judged or misunderstood (frankly, that is for good reason because people in general really suck). It was almost impossible to have a continuous, free-flowing conversation with him. But it wasn’t because he didn’t want to; it was likely more that he didn’t know how to given his lack of socialization coupled with his depression and anxiety.

I’m about a half year away from turning 40. If life worked out the way it should have, Ed would be turning 46 in about a month. I was looking at the newly whitened hairs on my head yesterday morning, thinking about how today, I likely have more white hairs on my head than Ed did at 33 going on 34 before he died. Ed had a far more stressful and turbulent life than I did. He deserved more than what he got.

Every day, I think about all the privilege I have. Most of it is due to luck and just being born in a certain place to a certain family at a certain time. A little bit of it is due to my own hard work and diligence. Even though Ed and I were born into the same exact family in the same house, frankly I had more privilege than he did. I was the second born with less pressure. I was also born a girl, and as research has shown, families tend to almost always raise girls with more love, tenderness, and affection. I was also born 6.5 years after he was at a time when our parents’ financial situation was a lot more stable. When I got into my twenties, I started thinking about how unfair all that was: Ed never asked for any of that to be the case, yet he got the shit end of the stick. And I started feeling guilty for being treated better and being more respected by our parents. Why should I have ever been treated well at his expense? It never made any sense to me. To this day, it still fills me with fury, a deep seated anger that will likely never go away. I wish Ed had had just a tiny bit more privilege than he did so that he could’ve been treated a little better than he was — not just by our parents, but by society as a whole.

I wonder if Ed could talk to me now, what he’d say to me. I’m sure he’d be thrilled about Kaia, growing like a little weed both in size and in personality. He would likely marvel at the apartment in which I live and also gasp at how much I’m spending on said apartment. He’d applaud anything seemingly “indulgent” I’ve done for myself, as he always used to critique me for being “too cheap” with myself and never buying myself nice things or experiences. Funnily enough, he’d probably tell me he was happy that I got my laser treatments because sometimes, when you want something, you “don’t think about it so much and just do it.” He’d admire all the travel experiences I’ve had and tell me how brave I am to go to all these places. He would also probably tell me that he was happy and grateful I found the “right person” in Chris.

It still feels strange. Sometimes, I hear about people talking about their siblings even today, and I get this sad feeling because I know I can never talk about my own sibling and our experiences in the present tense. It’s like a different kind of loss now.

12 years since you left us.

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Dear Ed,

I can’t believe it’s been 12 years since you left us today. I feel like I say that pretty much every year, but I actually do really mean it. Our cousin Russell actually messaged me this morning to acknowledge this. Russell has his own problems, but I know he loved you very much and still misses and thinks about you all the time. Each year that passes feels like a bigger gap between us. But it also makes me realize how quickly time flies the older I get (I can definitely say I have more white hairs right now than I did a year ago today). Sometimes, the day of your death is crystal clear in my head, while other days, it’s fuzzy and as though it was made up and never actually happened. I still remember how numb I felt when I found out you were missing. Even though I was walking around and doing things, it felt like my eyesight had become cloudy, like I wasn’t really walking but instead was floating just above the ground. My entire body felt weightless and extremely heavy at the same time. Nothing felt real. And then, just like that… you were confirmed gone, dead, passed away — a corpse in a refrigerator at the Marin County Morgue. Sometimes, it still doesn’t even feel real now that you’re gone.

I always wish I could have told you more, shared more about myself and my thoughts with you. I wish I could have been there for you more. I wish I could have really listened to more of what you had to say. But it was hard. I wasn’t physically always there. And even when I was, it was hard to talk to you. You had a large grey cloud looming above you all the time. It made our conversations non-continuous, choppy, never able to get past a certain point. We could never peel the outer layers of the onion away to get to the core of anything. You had a mental block that I couldn’t quite see or understand. I’m sorry I never told you all I wanted to say. And I’m sorry I never let you tell me all you wanted to say.

It’s funny, though. Now that you’re gone, out of nowhere, I think about the most random things to share with you that I think you’d find interest or amusement in. None of these things are particularly meaningful or deep or interesting or things I’d expect anyone to remember beyond the moment, but they’re more “in the moment” things that I think you’d appreciate. One of the latest things that happened that I thought would make you smile was when I wore a top with chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry ice cream cones on it. Kaia always gets excited when she sees food she likes in print or on clothing. So she pointed out that the shirt was new (to her) and that it had ice cream. I asked her to tell me what the flavors were, and she said from left to right, they were chocolate (brown), cherimoya (white), and strawberry (pink). And I just giggled because I thought it was so adorable… as we just came back from South America, where we ate a lot of cherimoya, so now, at least temporarily, Kaia associates “white” with “cherimoya” instead of the expected vanilla flavor.

My friends share about their kids and their siblings spending time with them. One of my friends lives a block away from her dad, who is caring for his granddaughter during the work week (so my friend’s niece). She goes over there frequently to spend time with her niece. And even though it has nothing to do with me or you or Kaia, a part of me feels envious. I wish that you could spend quality time and have sweet moments with Kaia. But that is never going to happen. A lot of amazing things were robbed from you, Ed. And for that, a large part of me will always be resentful on your behalf.

It’s July 2025 now, so a year and a half since the safety net was installed at the Golden Gate Bridge. We’re planning to go back to San Francisco next month. Maybe this visit, I may actually feel ready to go see it. I want to see this barrier that is saving lives… just not yours.

We haven’t forgotten you, Ed. We’ll never forget. Twelve years later, and I still haven’t forgotten you. I also haven’t stopped missing you. I love you. You may never read this, but I love you; I really do. And in her heart, I know Kaia loves you, too, and wishes she could have a real relationship in flesh and blood with you, too.

Rest in love, my sweet big brother.