Two years ago today I arrived in New Mexico for the summer. It was, appropriately, Father's Day. I arrived in the afternoon and found my parents in my dad's room, watching the end of the U.S. Open golf tournament. (My dad loved golf, and it always seemed right that the U.S. Open falls the same weekend as Father's Day.) I gave him a CD of Mendelssohn's gorgeous Octet for Strings for a birthday/Father's Day present, and he expressed some dismay that I'd gotten him anything, like, I'm about to die, why are you bothering?
I arrived on Sunday, knowing that on Friday I'd turn around and return to Colorado for Nolus's memorial. This was the context for my arrival in NM. This was the context for my summer. As I write this now, I can think, Wow, a lot happened all at once, didn't it?