Today is the first day that I'm starting to feel more like myself. I drove to Staten Island with Mom and met up with Leah and her mom for breakfast at IHOP. Omelets there are so much cheesier and filled, which is, yet, another reason New York is a bagillion times better than New Jersey. Anyway, after the eating extravaganza we went shopping at TJ Maxx and I got the cheapest and most fabulous reversible bathing suit. Things seemed to have finally turned up. I don't know what it is, but being in the area around my town makes me feel so much more aware of myself and my differences, but being in Staten Island and Manhattan brings me energy. I feel like I'm on another planet where I don't have to care about anything.
Then, everything went downhill. My night sucked and you probably know why. The only person that has really helped me through it all is Mom. She tells me stories about you and the things you used to say to cheer her up and it makes me smile. There are so few memories I have of you before you got sick, but those few that remain are so treasured. Luckily, they resurface when I hear Mom and Grandma talk about you and, for just a little bit, it feels like you're still on your lounge chair back in Puerto Rico. I wish I could still tell you that you penciled in your eyebrows with a blue Sharpie instead of a black one and I wish I still believed that you were the fastest swimmer in the world.
Make me strong, Grandpa.