cheese and crackers and overtime

on watching the Super Bowl

I watched the Super Bowl on Sunday. Voluntarily. All by myself.

That’s a first.

I mean, I’ve helped at big Super Bowl parties, serving food, checking the time, wondering how much longer before we can wrap this thing up.

But our friend who died a few months ago (and I’m still not sure how that can be true) - he loved football. He would have had Jeff over to watch the big game, complete with wings and pizza and everything else one eats while watching the Super Bowl.

But he’s gone. And Jeff had to work. And somehow it seemed to me that someone in our world should acknowledge this Big Game.

Grief is weird.

So I pulled out some cheese and crackers and watched the Super Bowl.

The whole thing.

When it went to overtime and they explained that it was basically starting a new game, I thought, “I’ve been up since 5AM, we doin’ a whole new game now?!”

But I stuck it out and then suddenly everyone was on the field and the team I had decided to root for had apparently won.

I don’t know how. They did a thing. It was the right thing, obviously.

Some cheers. Tears. Speeches. Kisses.

Scooped up the snoring puppy and went up to bed. Texted Jeff.

We miss you, Rob.