Josh Patten

I remember exactly how Mom’s voice sounded when she told me Dad died, exactly where I was standing, what I was wearing, the feel of snow on the ground as I walked to UCB to do this show, where I was sitting on my couch afterwards, staying up late to catch an early flight to Florida, what it felt like to hug my mom, to see my siblings, the taste of the hard candy in the funeral director’s office, the weight of my dad’s casket, the feel of his friend’s handshakes and hugs, how small his urn looked, the sting of the wind and the rain as we laid him to rest.

This may be why anniversaries like this are so tough—it’s one year today and I am vividly reliving everything about Dad dying to such a degree that it crowds out all the comfort and joy of remembering Dad living, at least for today.

Okay, that’s all. Not all of these have fun, uplifting morals!