31. Washington, D.C.

Date: June 25, 1979
Age: 2

Although this card says Washington, D.C., I am really in Rockville, Md., just outside of Washington. We will all be coming here again next month, so we can send you a card then too. Miss you.
Love, Daddy

Good work, Dad. It's like he knew that someday I'd have an irritating pet peeve of receiving cards with postmarks that don't reflect the image's contents. I appreciate the clarification, and thus will allow that this postcard is 23 miles off course.

Unrelated to this postcard, I'm getting really irritated with my Dad as of late. Before this, it was just frustration, and before that, it was worry. Now, I'm just pissed. He really is keeping my brothers and I in the dark about his cancer and treatment--but the last time I spoke with him, he seemed to be doing okay, was working, and even was supposed to go to San Juan, but canceled because he didn't want to spend most of the time resting in the hotel room. So, he's even well enough to travel. So why can't we visit him? We don't even have to stay at his place, we'll get a hotel. Simply put, he doesn't want us around. On the rare occasions we do get to speak, he always asks, "how are you feeling?" This is in regards to the horrific illness I endured in 2007, that put me in the hospital many weeks and required two major surgeries. But I've healed. I'm better now. So goddammit, ask me about something else for once. He has no idea what I do with my life. I've told him about school, where I work, but if you were to quiz him on it this moment, he couldn't tell you a fucking thing about what I do. He doesn't know how much I may have recovered from a heart-breaking breakup in the past year, or things I'm stressing about that will happen in the months ahead. I thought facing your own mortality would make you re-evaluate your relationships with people. And I feel like he's done the re-evaluating and thought to himself, "well, things are just fine staying isolated with my wife, so why change things now?" Fucking bullshit.