I hate the yankees

October on the night the Yankees gave up a 3-0 lead to the Red Sox.

Wen


It’s a Friday night and I put on my kaki pants to delivery pizza in. I’ve been doing this for almost five years, four of them with Wen. Tonight is the first night in four years that I won’t have to worry about someone stealing my runs, complaining about shitty or no tips, no cleaning their share of the store.
The New York Yankees pushed him over the edge, an edge that I think he was barely hanging over in the first place. As I walk through the cemetery I think of other people I know there, close people, family. My Grandfather and Grandmother, My sister--- When life’s cup is overfilling I visit them, I talk to them, I ask them things especially my sister—I think she knew me and I knew her.
I watch Wen’s wife acting, smiling, coping, and questioning everything she believes in. What do you say to a woman in this position, I’m sorry, sorry for what I don’t know, for the fact that I was planning on going over to his house the night of the game. For the fact that I called and called and didn’t get an answer and felt something was wrong. For not telling her that he hadn’t taken his medication in over two months of which I knew about.
As I hug her I tell her “I’m sorry”.
She thanks me and When you leave that funeral, that drive is as important as any single stretch of road you'll travel on. You've got a renewed appreciation for life. And I think that feeling can last through the day, through the week, but then things start getting back to normal and you start taking this living and breathing and eating thing for granted.