Sunday, Father's Day. It was a perfect summer day. My cousin hosted a family get-together for the first time. My cousin, married, with her own house, it's hard to believe. We had steaks and salad and yogurt-and-berry pie, yummy. It was so hot outside, near 100 degrees, but we still sat in chairs outside on the shady back porch talking.

I never know what to get my father. I finally settled on a gift card to Applebee's because I know he'll use it. Too impersonal? Maybe. I've given up on meaningful and have settled for functional.

I had to buy gas after work so I went to the gas station on Mesa and University. On the way to the freeway I drove down University Avenue, through the UTEP campus. The campus was deserted, as might be expected. I have three sets of memories of my time at UTEP: undergrad, grad school the first time, and grad school the second time. But the memories I had on this night were of undergrad years and as I drove I felt a twinge of sadness at the realization that those days are never coming back. Sort of like losing a favorite photograph. That chapter of my life is lost and becoming more lost every second.