“Why do you think these memories come up first?” Mom says. I answer immediately; there’s no question about why. “They make me happy.” “Yeah,” she says, her voice softer. “Those are all good memories, honey. Why do you think you thought of them instead of the times Dad was playing away games? Or when he had to go to training camp every August and we didn’t see him for a couple weeks? What about when he missed that big game of yours in ninth grade because he had to leave early to prepare for the wildcard game?” “I barely remember that,”
