Photography
Lot of great shots from the weekend but this one is my favorite.
The son of wife’s childhood friend watches the fireworks. You can see the crowd in the foreground. Big city fireworks make the news but it’s small towns and suburbs that epitomize the celebrations of Independence Day.
A week and half of family time and gratitude
My professional life might be going sideway right now—long story for another day—but the last week and half has been full of good family fun. The weekend before last my wife and I called an audible and took the kids to the US Air Force Museum in Dayton, Ohio. It’s about an hour from Columbus, very close to the Buc-ee’s. We of course stopped to get our fill before the Europeans discovered the glory and greatness of that august American institution.
The USAF Museum is wonderful. At over a quarter mile in length, covering four large hangers, it is impossible to see everything in one visit. We wanted to take the kids to a Star Wars fighters. The exhibit has a tie-fighter and x-wing at life-side scale.
I really enjoyed the World War II displays; and my wife, usually indifferent about military things, pestered me questions about aircraft design. My boys, however, out gunned her (pun intended) with their rapid fire questions about planes, rockets, bombs, and everything a 7 and 10 year old can imagine. At the end of a very fast three hour visit, we surpassed ten thousand steps.
We followed up that weekend with time at the pool and then, last Tuesday, finally made it to Dime-a-Dog Night at the Columbus Clippers. We ordered 30 hot dogs and took more home than we ate, but perhaps on account that our friends who joined us gave us their leftovers. If asked to list how many I ate, I will plead the fifth. But the kids did not go hungry that night.
This weekend was an epic packed weekend. On Friday we had back-to-back events, watching the USMNT game at Columbus Commons and then met the Thunderbirds at the National Veterans Memorial and Museum. Commons was packed and we couldn’t get a good view of the giant screens. So we left at the half to finish at a local brewery that had the game and an outdoor seating area for families to watch. My 10 year old is starting to get into soccer. I was happy to oblige his budding interest.
Later that night, my kids met the 2026 Thunderbirds. My 5 year old was especially interested in meeting the “girl pilots”. They were so kind to her and bent down to talk to her at her level. I bet they did that for all the kids, but it makes for a special memory for kids when their heroes meet them where they are.
Saturday was my 12th anniversary with my wife. Between the newborn, my dad’s death in February, and the uncertainty about the future, we didn’t plan for a big weekend away. Instead we took the kids to see Toy Story 5 in the morning followed by a quick meet up with a friend from college who was in town (I’ve not seen him in 15-ish years). And then my sister-in-law watched the big kids while my wife and I went to dinner.
Toy Story was great. I was hopeful but worried that it wouldn’t hold up. So many franchises stumble and the odds of making a dud grow higher with each iteration. I was much relieved. My wife and I weren’t expecting the big reveal that reminded us of Paco. (No spoilers but IYKYK). But man did we cry.
Dinner was great. We went to the restaurant that we visited for our first anniversary. We moved a few months later for me to finish my PhD and haven’t been back. And since we might have to move again soon, we wanted to ensure we snuck this in. It was a surreal experience to be back after eleven years, fifth kid in tow. The manager paid for our dessert which made the night extra special.
Not to be outdone, since Sunday was Father’s Day my kids wanted to something for me. So they got to “surprise” me by taking me to the Air Show at Rickenbacker Air Force Base. And by “surprise”, I mean I bought the tickets and pretended to be surprised when my kids told me on Sunday morning. We had a blast. My wife stayed home—we thought it would be too loud for the baby—so it was just me and the big kids. My old Air Guard unit was there with a plane I used to work on. My daughter made us go back a second time so she could see “daddy’s plane.” I chatted with a few of the current maintainers who knew some of my old colleagues who were still in the unit.
For the first time in years, perhaps since before the pandemic, my podcast queue is empty.
Saint Patrick’s Day parade in Dublin Ohio.
And later we were part of the world’s largest “human shamrock”
Took all day to load the trailer. One last family photo before we left for good. Lot of tears. We’re going to miss this place.
Last year, I took this snapshot of Paco while we waited in line for Santa at a farm that does holiday events. It was a moment of peaceful calm for my otherwise very energetic boy.
This year, my wife took the kids to the same event last minute. My oldest had his siblings recreate it for me.
Arizona in December…
… where it’s sunny, 80 degrees, and the city pool event is Swimming with Santa.
Last year, Paco got a plunger at the Thanksgiving parade; this year, his sibling made sure they got their own, and so of course they were in our family pic for the year.
Paco loved Thanksgiving. And while we have so much for which to be grateful, there is also a giant hole of love without him. Last year he won that plunger on Thanksgiving and every day after it became his sword, magic wand, scepter.
Today, I’ll have it with me.
My heart hurts today.
We went to ASU’s homecoming parade and the Missus got her dream come true (after six years of waiting): a family photo on Palm Walk:
“Forks Up” Sundevils.
Went to In-N-Out for the free meal. Got a cool sticker, too.
Ladies and gentlemen… TEN YEARS
Honestly, I am having difficulty believing it but the math checks out.
Happy birthday, Paco. You are missed, and so loved.
We’re making this your day, kiddo.
People ask me all the time “how hot is it, really, where you live in the summer?”
Welp. I woke up just after 12:30am to get some water and thought to myself, “self, how hot is it outisde right now?” And behold, MySelf found the answer to my internal mental query.
Eleven years. Loving each other through good times and bad, sickness and health…
The kids made it a good day. Took me to lunch after Mass, and later we went to a city pool. I’m grateful they knew it would be hard for me today: so they made the day that Paco would have (Paco was always the one to plan how to make your day great).
It’s Father’s Day, but someone is missing. I miss this guy so very much. He was “the strongest avenger” in our house. And he never let a day like today pass without celebration. So, I’ll rally for Paco—my buddy bear, my “el torrito”, but he’s not here. And my day will always be incomplete.
Three months of grief, and my birthday.
Yesterday. The fifth.
Three months have passed since Paco died. Since then, I have been somewhat on auto pilot. There have been moments of sobriety, moments of clarity that come as quickly as they disappear. But on balance, these last three months have felt like an eternity. And yet it feels as raw as last week. This week especially, the weight of his absence has felt extraordinary.
Today. The sixth.
My 45th birthday. Paco would have been the most excited. More than my wife. More than the other kids. More than all of them combined. He loved to make birthdays the best for whomever. Paco would have fought his siblings to wake me so that he could be the first to wish me happy birthday. He would have insisted on getting me a giant birthday balloon from Dollar Tree, and would not let the sun set without surprising me with a cake. “Dad, stay in your bedroom while we make a surprise cake for you.”
Lucia and the kids did well to make the day feel joyous as they could. We ordered breakfast burritos for delivery. I took the kids to the movies—a reshowing of The Bad Guys (2018)—and got some tacos for lunch. Before dinner, we went to do indoor mini golf. And yeah, they got balloons. Four of them. He is not forgotten.
My cake says “145” because of a running joke. My dad always added a hundred to his age when I was a kid. I started doing it to my kids. They all know the truth by now, but it’s the still the running gag in the family about “dad’s old.”
