I had a conversation at the grocery store this morning that I could not get out of my head. I told a friend that I bumped into that my daughter was on a field trip with her synagogue to Whitwell, TN to visit the Holocaust Memorial, an actual Nazi boxcar filled with millions of paperclips that were collected by students as part of a project to understand the enormity of the loss of six million Jews.

Jay would have been miserable in this hot we are enduring in Nashville. He was not a fan of the heat and regardless of the heat or cold, he always carried two water bottles filled with the iciest coldest water he could make in our Jenn Air refirgerator.. He carried both water bottles in a backpack that Jay literally never left the house without. It was his adult security blanket.

Jay and I would usually talk during the day while the kids were at school. When I felt the question coming,  I used to hurry to get off the phone. By "the question" I mean the dreaded question "what are you doing today?" (not to be confused with the forbidden question "what's for dinner tonight?)

I am pretty certain when I saw the movie a few years ago about Mark Zuckerberg starting Facebook, there was no mention of his intention to help 45 year old widows. But really Mark, I am grateful for this crazy online community that you have created for people even if it was initially I think for college kids to hook up? And even though if I am not in the right mood, posts of smiling happy families can bring me down. And even if  I am sick and tired of seeing my kids glued to social media and I sometimes fear for their future because of it (but really my kids are way too cool for Facebook so I can't blame you for that anyway).

Between using the leaf blower and changing light bulbs, I definitely prefer the leaf blower. I feel like a character from the new Ghostbusters with my new yard tool by my side as I blow away the rainbow colored confetti that was supposed to be thrown on New Years. Or maybe those are really leaves I am blowing off my leaf-strewn screened-in porch where I find myself writing so much since last spring? 

I watched the TV Amazon series, Transparent, beginning in January and one of the main characters was going through a divorce and coming undone. I remember watching and being envious. I wanted to come undone and get a pass on having to appear sane. I wanted to have a good wardrobe while doing it and not be stuck with my Target baggy, worn out striped PJ pants I wear so often. I wanted a set that could be a complete wreck but at the end of the day go home to a clean house with folded laundry. I wanted to be edgy like she was but I am not an actor and "play it safe" is really my character.

I realized last night that thirty nine years ago yesterday was Junebug's first day of first grade at her beautiful brick school across the street from the hospital where her mom and dad worked. Her dad walked her to her classroom and later that day came back without her knowing to peek in on his youngest of five.

Friday was National Dog Day and since lately it seems I am finding any reason to write because it feels good, I thought I would write about our dogs. Lucky is our six year old rescue we got when she was seven months old. We were at a Dog Days celebration and the Humane Shelter was there with a few rescue dogs.

Junebug had three sisters and two brothers and while they each played  important roles, her sister, Sarah aspired to play the most significant role in her life. Sarah had mapped out a dream life for little sister. From her name in lights on Broadway as the next Annie to being the youngest kid to run the Boston Marathon, Sarah was determined for Junebug to be something big. Junebug's mom worked full-time so this gave Sarah, being 10 years older (and seemingly with not a lot of homework?), a lot of room to "parent" Junebug. 

I hope this does not make me and Jay sound like horrible parents but the one advice that almost every parenting expert recommends is family dinners. I think they say it prevents almost every possible future problem your kid could have. Family dinners always felt like a disaster in our house.

I can imagine Jay sitting at his desk on his computer in the office. Working, making a list, paying bills or catching up on the latest Phish news, it was more his space than mine. His side was neat and tidy, mine was a little messy. 

Jay played Norah Jones' Nightingale for Zoe when she came into the world. Yes, there was a playlist for every occasion with Jay. 

Jay discovered the band 21 Pilots at Bonaroo last summer and as Zoe said yesterday, he did not stop listening to them. Most bands he would be into until he found the next. 

I remember when he played me the song Stressed Out. The lyrics go: "My name is blurryface and I care what you think."

Next week will be Zoe's 14th birthday. One thing I miss so much about Jay is having someone to adore my kids with because like most parents, Jay and I loved adoring our kids. It did not always have to be spoken but could just be a look we gave one another when something they said or did melted our heart. It kind of reminds me of how me and the kids will dote over our new puppy, Benji, over the way he hops around or tilts his head. 

I was thinking all summer I may need to tell Junebug to stop fishing in the sewer.  I was worried I would make her feel foolish for being hopeful that one day she might catch that Betty Crocker Oven she always wanted or a rainbow dolphin but as summer is ending, I am tired.  Hope can be exhausting. 

I miss the way Jay would make our bed. His dad taught him how to do it with military corners when he was young and he was definitely a pro. I usually knew better not to attempt to make it because he would always come in after me and re-do it perfectly. He would even end the day by neatly placing a heavy blanket on me before he got in bed.

I know people feel differently about how long you should wait to begin dating after you lose a spouse and I have no judgement about it. My mom remarried two years after my dad died (and only six months after he lost his wife to cancer) and they have been happily married since.  

Junebug sometimes felt angry when she was not heard or understood. She was a person who always wanted everything to be OK with people in her life. The thought of everyone not liking her could feel messy. By messy I do not mean the kind of messy when she rubbed ice cream all over her face to make people laugh, I mean the other kind of messy when you risk being real and losing people. The most terrifying kind of messy for Junebug.

Jay and I used to joke that between the two of us we covered every fear possible for planning  a vacation. He was afraid of bridges and tunnels and driving long distances. I am afraid of elevators and airplanes. We both were afraid of heights. When the kids were young and we took them to Disney, we looked at each other after riding Dumbo and said "that was scary."