The third Sunday in June is always an exhausting one. My dad passed away when he was about the age I am now. You think it will eventually get better with time, but it doesn’t. So you redirect your sadness back into your insomnia and your insomnia back into your work and so on and so on. For anyone else out there working through these sorts of circular messes. Whether it’s because of shithead dads, absent dads, dads we lost too soon or dads we never got the chance to know 🖤