March 13th

Today is March 13th. Pretty insignificant for most people. Today is the day Michael Lynn Bronson, my dad, died. I don't remember a lot about him, I was only ten when it happened, my biggest memories come from pictures or memories other people tell me about. I have a sweater of his, a necklace, watch, and a bottle of cologne, that i have kept in my drawer since I was 18, the smell is the biggest memory trigger I have. I still take a Pepsi out to his grave on his birthday and Father's Day and now Boston comes with me.

I wish I remembered more about him, I have been told he was really smart and really funny. I remembered the night before he died I went to achievement days, it's a activity group for girls 8-12 in my church, and learned how to cook a chicken dish with mushrooms and onions and I was so excited to be able to make it for him, I never got to. I remember the night before I prayed that something would happen so I wouldn't have to go to my piano lesson the next day since I had hardly practiced. For a long time my ten year old self felt guilty assuming that is how my prayer got answered. I sometimes still feel guilty that I didn't call 911 or anything like that instead of waiting on my mom. My biggest form of guilt stems from the fact that I have never really cried about his death. I have always felt sad for the sadness my sisters and my mom had, maybe I'm not a huge cryer or maybe I block it out since I was there, mostly I assume it's because I was so young.

Before the funeral one of my mom's best friends, Jackie, took us shopping for new dresses to wear to it. The older girls wore darker colors, I picked a mint green dress that tied in the back and was a really soft material. That dress still hangs in my bedroom closet at my parents house. I had such a hard time comprehending that my mom was now a "window"(that's what I thought it was called) and hated all of the awkward stares I received when I went back to school.

I don't remember a lot about that time or that man. I know I was named after him, (Michael Lynn--Ashlynn) and I'm proud that Boston and I both share his last name.


On March 9th it was my dad, Kevin's, birthday. I am so thankful that he was able to become my dad. I sometimes think Michael picked him out specifically for us,, because I know he would think the world of him.

Parents drive us crazy, trust me , I completely understand that. But try to be nicer to them than necessary, tell them that you love them, since you never know when they might just be memory.

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I posted this last year on March 13th. Death is stupid, I hate it.