I came across this photo last summer, when we were cleaning out my parents’ house …

The only information I have on the photo is the date printed at the bottom — 7/17/2011. Aside from that, I have no idea where this was taken, or who the people with my mom are.

Still, I really like this photo. I guess it brings me back to a time when my mom looked healthy and happy. Well … at least she did in this photo. Just as I have no idea where this was taken or who these people were, I really have no idea what mom was doing, or thinking, or feeling that day. All I know is that — looking back through my personal calendar — it was a Sunday, and on that very day, I may very well have been hung over, as I had just returned from a three-day trip to Vegas, immediately followed by a friend’s birthday party in San Diego the night before …

Anyway …

I like this photo. It’s hard to believe this was almost 10 years ago. It’s hard to believe this was in BM times — Before Melissa times. It’s hard to believe it’s been almost three years since I last spoke to my mom … over 2.5 years since she went into cardiac arrest … almost 1.5 years since she died …

Perhaps saddest of all, though, I think back to the past 1.5 years since she died, and in some twisted way, I’m almost glad she wasn’t around for them. I can’t imagine what it would’ve been like to live through the pandemic, how scary it would have been to deal with the rise in hate crimes against Asians over the past year. Every time I’ve read a story of some elderly Asian person getting violently attacked, in some twisted way, I feel glad that my mom isn’t around anymore, because then I never have to worry about something like that happening to her.

There’s a weird and incredibly uncomfortable cognitive dissonance there — to feel glad in some twisted way that my mom is no longer around.

It fucking sucks.