Someone told me today that you don't talk about Egyptian politics online. You meaning everyone. Someone meaning I think I loved him. Loved meaning he never wrote and I realize this as I pull all the books off my shelves.

I found a postcard I wrote to my dad when I was 13 and on vacation with family in Disney World: Everyone is ok. I didn't lose my marbles yet and didn't lose mom yet. I added the last yet as an afterthought. I found a letter my grandma sent me, also when I was 13. She had taught my 4 year old cousin how to use her type writer. It went something like this: oinvaoalkdmncnwdjm vklkk l kf;sl,m xlikmopvmvp;sz mom oinvklz cniwp-jmvm nz;ljvn stop ao lnkld,.xc. He scribbled his name huge and shaky at the bottom. Grandma circled the only two words he made: mom. stop. Things are funny after the fact.