Memoir, or a belated thank-you to my big brother

So I am teaching my students about writing memoirs, and I decided to write one myself while they are writing theirs. Here it is:

When I was in second grade, my brother gave me a special watch for Christmas. It was special because he had moved away the year before to go live with my dad in Texas, and I really missed him.
The watch was so great because it had pictures from my favorite movie, Starwars, on the front, and it was digital, which at the time was new and cool. My brother really knew what I liked, and I was happy he remembered so much about me!
When we returned to school a few weeks later, I wore my watch proudly. I wanted to show my teacher and my friends what a great gift I had gotten from my brother.
That morning at school I showed off my watch to everyone I knew. They all agreed it was a great gift, and I felt special that my brother had picked it out just for me.
As the school day wore on, I pretty much forgot about my watch. In fact, I was an absent-minded boy, and my parents were always nagging me about lost mittens or boots or books. It No matter how many times I got in trouble for losing things, I just couldn't seem to help myself. Well, on this day I just happened to learn a painful lesson about responsibility.
I didn't realize it until I was on the bus on my way home, but when the bus driver asked if he could see my watch, I realized I was no longer wearing it!
Now, I had lost things before. A lot of things. My toys, my clothes, my lunch box... I had lost these things, many times, and though I felt bad about my parents yelling at me about them, I never really felt like it was a big deal. It just didn't matter that much to me.
But this time was different. In my family it was a rule that we write thank-you letters for all the gifts we received, and I had not yet written to my brother. As I sat there on the bus, I began to cry, and not just a little. I cried a lot. I'm not sure if it was because I was getting older, or if it was because I was afraid I'd have to tell the truth, but for the first time in my life I felt horrible about losing something. I didn't realize it then, but what I was feeling was remorse. Remorse is a complicated feeling, like guilt and regret and embarrassment all rolled into one. It sat there in the pit of my stomach making me feel sick all the way home.
When I got home my mom could tell there was something wrong. I wasn't crying anymore, but my eyes were still red and puffy and it was easy to see that I was not ok.
When she asked me what was wrong, I broke down again and started crying as I told her about the watch. Though I could tell by the look on her face that she was annoyed that I had lost yet another thing, she just listened patiently as I wailed on about what a terrible and ungrateful little brother I was and how I didn't deserve to have such a caring older brother.
My mom didn't disagree with me as I sat there verbally beating myself up. When I finally ran out of words she just looked at me and said, "I think you had better write that thank-you letter to your brother."
I knew she was right. I knew that I had to write the letter, and I had to do it soon, before I stopped feeling so awful.
You see, it is a truth that the adults we become are shaped by the choices we make, and I knew then that the choice before me was a huge one.
On the one hand, I could fulfill my duty by writing my brother a letter, saying all the usual things but leaving out everything I was currently thinking and feeling. I was old enough even then to know I wouldn't keep feeling this way forever.
On the other hand, if I didn't tell him about losing the watch then I knew I was not only being a coward, I was also being dishonest. I was learning a lesson about what grown-ups call integrity. I faced a choice about accepting responsibilty for who I was, the bad parts and all, or hiding myself safely away, telling myself that if my brother never knew, then I could just act like it never, ever happened.
I decided to write the truth. Even though I was afraid of hurting his feelings... afraid of what he would think of me. Afraid it might kill kill me to say out-loud the secret feelings inside me.
Today I doubt my brother even remembers the watch, or my letter. But I remember. It was my first decision in a long line of decisions about what kind of person I wanted to become, and each choice since then continues to mold me.

... and addiction rears its ugly head

OK, don't worry. I'm not drinking or doing dope. Those things hold no interest for me. It's graphic novels. I am now hopelessly hooked on graphic novels, and, worse, I think I've passed this malady on to my son.
You see, he had to do a project for school on some aspect of Shakespeare's life and times, and his area was the Bubonic Plague. So instead of just writing a regular report like a normal kid would, he decides he wan't to make a comic out of it... and THEN he makes the mistake of asking ME for help. So what do I do? Well, I spend hours online looking for a free comic creator, and finally I came across this site. It was here that Nick came up with his final product, which earned him the praise of his teacher. In fact, she liked it so much she was showing it to all the other teachers and is quite smitten with Nick at the moment. Read the thing here, here, and here.
Anyway, contaminating Nick with my current obsession isn't the only thing I have to worry about. I just can't help but go to the book store every week or so to get a new book. Graphic novels, literary ones, are in their boom stage at the moment, and it's like being part of a really monumental, culturally revolutionary movement before it really catches on. I know there have been graphic novels out there for decades now, but I never was much a fan of superhero stories. I like literature and fantasy primarily, and there is just such a wealth of great stuff out there.
For example, I just finished reading Laika, a graphic novelization of the story of the dog that the Soviets put into space on the Sputnik II. This is the first book to make my cry in quite awhile. It's historical fiction of the least-fictional kind, and it is really amazing.
Then there was Fun Home. This story is about growing up w/ a closeted gay English teacher father, and it is really great tragedy.
And of course, another current favorite is Blankets, a high school coming-of-age story about a kid w/ religiously nutty parents.
Hmmm... what else? Oh! True Porn 2 is an awesome book of, well, porn... ok, not exactly porn, but autobiographical sex stories by current graphic novelists which are so odd they have to be true.
And I shouldn't forget about The Rabbi's Cat, the story of a cat who for a brief time is given the power of speech, and is constantly challenging his owner's religious convictions. Set in Algeria in the 1930's, a time of rising anti-semitism, it is an enthralling read (and to be honest, one hell of an accurate portrayal of your typical cat!)
OK, I could literally go one for dozens more books, but my other addiction, Lost, is calling, since Nick just finished his homework.

Mo Money... I wish.

I've been a little stressed out lately, what with being a newly full-time parent. Nick's had some problems with some school bullies, and he is wanting to see a therapist (this is a good thing, but still stressful.) We're stuck playing a waiting game as far as getting him health insurance, and in the mean time we're paying out of pocket for his visits. We're by no means in dire straights, but we ARE more strapped than usual, and the radiator just happened to go out in our van, which was $900 worth of unforseen expenditure. Unpleasant, but not a huge problem. We just had to wait 9 days until payday to get the work done, so I've been carting Nick to school and myself to work on the motorcycle. Fortunately it is no longer in the triple digits, and the bike has been fairly nice.
Well, payday rolls around and SURPRISE the IRS seized most of my last check for back taxes. I was not informed about this until I saw the small paycheck deposit in my account. Apparently my employer has had the paperwork for a few months, but didn't tell me, and then they had an impending deadline so they took all but 300 dollars of my check. Ouch. Fortunately, I was able to take an advance on my Science Club pay to pay for the van repairs, but that means smaller checks for the next several months.
Anyhow, as I said, we're not about to get evicted or anything, but it is a bit stressful spending all this extra money. I am still paying Nick's mom $400 a month in support to pay off back support I owe her, and once that is caught up in December things will be a little easier, but the real issue is not having Nick insured. Dr. and therapist appointments are going to cost approx. $600 a month from now until we get him on Erin's plan, and we can't do that until January unless the AG in Texas writes new orders saying we HAVE to insure him. As soon as we can get that, we'll be able to have the insurance pay for N's appointments and meds.
So anyway, stress galore, and I was in need of some relief. It's a known fact (known to Erin and I anyway) that I go kind of nuts unless I get some good quality outside time every six months or so, and until this weekend, I hadn't been fishing since last summer. So we packed up the van and made the 4 hr. drive to the Sierras this weekend for a last effort to catch some fish before it freezes for the winter.
All said and done we saw beautiful Autumn colors, I caught a few fish, and I remembered how totally awesome Fall in the mountains is. It was a rejuvenating trip, and just what I needed.
Now I'm half way through the week and feeling pretty good.
Oh, I almost forgot the good news. I applied for a doctoral program a few weeks ago, and I got my acceptance notice today. WOOHOO!
I'm too excited to worry about the fact that in addition to my regular job of teaching 7 hours a day and the demands of going back to school, I still have:

1. Three days of after-school programs to coordinate each week
2. to plan and implement the Professional Development day for all three of our campuses for both this Fall and Spring
3. to coordinate our video-exchange programs grades 2-4 with 4 other campuses world-wide by December

Erin just zapped my boys

DAMN it's dry here...and that explains, in part at least, how
Erin just inadvertently shocked me in the privates because she's so static-y.
I will no longer lounge around in my briefs; it's not safe.