To: Gagne, David
Sent: May 24, 2002 9:20 PM
It’s late and I’m tired. I stayed up to watch the Kings beat the crap out of the Lakers.
All of a sudden, I caught five minutes of the news, and they were talking about the Memorial Day Weekend. I didn’t even realize it was a holiday. I mean, I’ve been feeling pretty nasty all week, and I wasn’t thinking about it.
Anyway, you’ll probably think I’m a jerk because I always worry when you guys fly, but, there’s been talk about terrorist attacks over the 4th of July, and Memorial Day celebrates the end of a war…
Jen is flying out to Chicago tomorrow.
Shit, I hate feeling this way. On top of worrying about planes themselves, now we have to worry about what satan’s spawn might do.
What do you think? Am I crazy to feel as if my stomach just dropped out?
I wish neither of you ever needed to fly anywhere. I wish I could pray. I wish I wasn’t so scared. Damn it. All I want is for my family (you and Jen) to be happy and healthy and fairly close to each other. Is that so much to ask for?
It was so much easier when you were both in diapers, in cribs and playpens, and I could give you all the love you needed and take care of you and keep you from harm.
Anyway, I’m suspicious enough to think that even giving form to my fears will be bad, but I needed to talk to someone, and you’re it.
Tell me I’m a jerk.
And when she gets to Chicago, she’s taking her wonderful, rather petite self to the Trail for a week. Oh, if only you both had kids and could understand…
I love you. I’m tired.