Back from my dad’s “unveiling” in Toronto – that’s a Jewish thing, a year after someone’s death, the unveiling of their gravestone.

Family stuff, you know – surreal and wacky and painful and aggravating as shit — are everyone’s relatives as fucked up and crazy as mine?! (rhetorical question). Family stuff.

Death is all around me, it’s all around all of us, as much as life is. I just keep getting caught up in these dumbstruck awestruck moments, and all I can do is cry (like publicly and embarrasingly) with joy. It’s all so beautiful and fleeting, dying as fast as it can be born.

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