Reading back over the archives of my Facebook posts, the On This Day In posts, it's the biggest gift when I can tell a joke to my future self and make that person who I would become happy all over again.

I think I enjoy my own writing more than anyone else, anyone that is, except my mom.

I'm sure she thought I wouldn't miss her when she was gone, but she was wrong about me in so many ways, so why not one more? Every time I look back on some event I measure it by whether or not she was still alive when it happened. It permeates everything I do. I wish it were otherwise, I really do.

All I can say is if there is anything left of her, almost five years after her passing, I hope she's reading my blog, and I hope she's proud of her son, after all is said and done.