There are two memories around Estelle that I’d like to understand. I don’t think understanding them will tell me anything about her.

I think I understand these two memories. I think they are beautiful and relatable images and I’d like to understand them and show them to you.

I have been waiting to become a better writer so that I can understand them.

When I try to focus on these two memories others rush in. The one where we walked through what felt like all of San Francisco, and I recorded our conversation on my phone accidentally. You said it would be so boring to have to watch our kids play sports as they grow up. I said I’d get into it if they were good , but if they weren’t, I’d just feel awkward.The rest of the recording is in my pants. In the park above the abandoned hotel, there are plaques talking about how the native Americans used shells as currency. I can not believe people have lived on this earth for so many years. Then we went to see a horror movie in theaters and we both jumped, shuttered, got embaressed. Then it rained. We were cold, not mad for once, and made good by how much walking we did. We were made good throughout the whole dreary day which was much harder for you. I’m proud of you, did you know that? I’m proud to not know you anymore and know that you’re well.

The other memories become secrets as this one unfolds. Next time, I will understand them.