My mom laughs and puts her arm around my shoulders. “I miss how he used to tell the same joke when I sang. ‘Don’t quit your day job, Judy!’”

I giggle and lean into her more. At first all I smell is organic bleach and lavender, but then I get a hint of her perfume too. I close my eyes and say, “He doesn’t do that stuff or like the same things anymore, and I’m mad about that sometimes or I miss him.” I wipe my eyes. “I just want him to cook pancakes for dinner and drive the car around in the afternoon. I want to argue with him about using the push mower over the big gas-guzzling lawn mower. I want him to be the one locking the doors because, no offense, but you never remember.”

“We get attached to people as they are, but people change,” my mom says, running her fingers through my hair.

“I know.” I take a deep breath, but there’s still more in me. I guess when you don’t say anything for a long time, there comes a time when you have a lot to say. “I want to remember that he’s still all those things, but he’s also neighbors in the tree and shaking hands and broken bowls because he’s not not his sickness either. Do you know what I mean?”

My mom nods. Her eyes are closed. Outside my window the stars are nailed to the sky and looking very sturdy up there, like completely unmoving dots of light. Her voice softens to nearly a whisper.

“And then at some point he’s beyond all of these things, which you know already, because we all are.” She yawns and holds me tighter. “At least that’s what I believe.”

19

Days ’til graduation: 5

ON MY LAST NIGHT OF HIGH SCHOOL, I STAY UP ALL NIGHT WITH Abigail’s copies of all the books we were supposed to read for English. She still has her sticky notes in them, and she gave me her class notes, so basically I’m going to do better than I possibly could’ve done on my own. I also have my dad’s copy of Zen and Motorcycle blah blah blah because Evelyn’s project description said DON’T FORGET TO USE AN OUTSIDE SOURCE! I’m probably just gonna Google a bunch of quotes from it, but maybe I’ll read it someday. Or absorb it through osmosis. Or take up motorcycling. Just kidding.

STATUS OF COLLEGE ESSAY: 18 percent complete

TITLE: The Sicknesses We Have

SPOILER ALERT: It’s about how my dad is sick and humans are sick, but talking about it anymore is going to make me sick.

ANXIETY LEVEL: Get Xanax @now.

STATUS OF CLASS PROJECT: A little nonexistent, though Evelyn wrote on the top of my project description Live the questions! So at least that gave me a vague starting point.

CURRENT MATERIALS: Like six thousand questions that range from Why is my left nipple starting to grow a black hair? to What happens when we die and get eaten by wolves?