Significance

Tomorrow my first born turns eighteen.

Tonight I sit with my four and one-point-five year old, watching Frozen.

As I have always attempted to do something significant to celebrate my first born's birthday, and my second marriage's anniversary (I do not recommend getting married on an estranged child's birthday), tomorrow we head out to Joshua Tree with Michael Walker and a couple of his girls.

 Every year this day is difficult, and I try to pretend like it isn't.  I always held on to the hope that my daughter would have my mind, question the circle of ignorance, like I did, and hunt me down to figure out reality.  She never did.  Now she's legally an adult.  She has a phone, but I'm not allowed to have her number.  She has my number, but she doesn't call.  It is what it is.

In this last year we tried to welcome my son into our lives, but he kept randomly showing up at inconvenient times, or no-showing when we had made plans, until he disappeared all together... again.  Both of them stopped calling a long time ago.  I'm sure it will forever be my fault, added to the list of things I fucked up.  At some point I suppose I should just completely let go, but I can't help but hold on to some sort of romanticized happy ending.

Last week we ended up at Trona Pinnacles to briefly collide with Saint Lacoste and 3D Bob.  We arrived just in time for the sunset's afterglow, then proceeded to carry on some strange ceremonial ritual around a bonfire, in which mangled barbies were burned.  In the foggy aftermath of the next day we wandered around and shot a little.  I haven't even gotten to those yet.  This year has brought a lot of accomplishment.  I am grateful and overwhelmed.  We just keep going.