When I was 10 in 2005 my cousin’s so called friend stole my extremely expensive deck of Yu-Gi-Oh! cards.
Yu-Gi-Oh! was an extremely popular anime in the early 2000s when I was growing up. It was one of my Saturday morning cartoons and every time they showed a badass looking “monster” I wanted to add it to my collection.
My cousin and I would play the card game often, but we could only get whatever random cards came in the packs at Target.
But while walking through the Great Mall in Milpitas, CA I stumbled on a card shop that had all the rare cards you couldn’t find in packs…and from 03 - 05 I would build my deck. I kept it tucked in this Gold case because it meant that much to me.
Honestly, it was less about the game and more about spending time with my cousin. The year my parents got divorced I had asked for a brother my age; since all of my cousins had siblings, I felt lonely not growing up with one.
Summer of 2005 I had my cousin and his friend (we will call him Bob) over my house. I was so excited to have the ancient Egyptian God cards that I was showing them my deck, but then I took them around the side of my house to play dodgeball. I left it on top of my dresser where my tv was.
Maybe 10 minutes into dodgeball, Bob asked to use the bathroom. He was in there for a very long time, and by the time he came out it was time for them to get picked up.
After I said goodbye, later that night I wanted to look at the cards but they were gone. I was positive Bob took them, but my mom was convinced I misplaced them. She spent so much building it, she was well within her right to not replace the deck.
This thing I cared about for years, maybe about 4 years total, was no longer a major part of my life.
But life will always go on. I found other activities and games to play with my cousins that brought us closer together…so I thought.
Here I am in 2026 writing this with tears in my eyes finally understanding something major. This summer I tried all the activities and games I used to play with my cousins:
Go to my Uncle’s community in Sacramento
Play the video games like GTA & Assassin’s Creed
Walk almost everywhere locally
Stay up late watching shows
Wake up early and feel the breeze
I tried these things because I wanted to reconnect with a part of myself I lost along the way. It’s important to me because I don’t want my son to have a father who is always looking for himself.
While none of those activities were reconnecting me, it was almost like with each attempt I was unlocking pieces of a memory.
Then I made the decision to step away from social media, and 8 days later it clicked for me.
The activities meant nothing without the undivided presence of people I loved and who loved me.
I remember when I got sober and lost friends, part of me felt like the loss was attributed to alcohol…like if I picked it up then those people would reappear.
Of course, I knew that wasn’t true. But I think I’ve spent years making the same mistake in different ways.
I thought I missed drinking, but I missed the people.
I thought I missed old video games, but I missed who I played them with.
I thought I missed being a kid, but I missed waking up excited about what the day could become.
My son is going to grow up faster than I can possibly understand right now. One day, the things we do together will become the memories he tries to reconnect with.
I don’t want him to remember a dad who was always working, scrolling, comparing, or searching for some version of himself that doesn’t exist anymore.
A Dad who only lived his life on the weekend.
I want to be there every day, giving him the connection to life that I’m rediscovering this summer.
This summer was the greatest summer of my life by far. I feel overwhelmed with emotion, remembering what life is about. My son being born, spending time with my wife, the endless road trips, seeing my family more often, and even going to Disneyland together for the first time as parents reminded me that none of these things require a summer break.
And I know, Summer will end. It always does.
But that doesn’t mean we have to let it die.
