March 7, 2020:

I loved his new young wife.

She was so vibrant. She laughed, she joked, she ran, she played football with us. My mother sat in her chair smoking cigarettes watching TV.

And she was so beautiful. Mexican: perfect black hair, lovely dark eyes, beautiful skin. Even as a child that was deeply fascinating to me.

He loved her, too. When she left him after fifteen years he collapsed into breakdown and depression.

Later in life when I briefly loved a beautiful Mexican woman I wondered if I were following in his footsteps, in some conditioned way. There was never the chance to find out one way or another. We lasted only a short time: another of life's true regrets.