Sunday Mornings

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Each and every Sunday morning, somewhere between 7 AM and 9 AM our telephone would ring. Everyone in the house would yell out, "It's Uncle Jeff!"

The call always started with a discussion of the previous night, moved onto a few moments about dinner plans for the day, and quickly turned to sports and the coming week. Jeff was always concerned with what I had coming up in the week, and if there was a sporting event that needed to be bet on, we did that. Once in awhile we touched on Bruce and we always spoke of the Yankees and the state of their union.

Of course, that call didn't come today and it really hurt. Tomorrow night we would be meeting up with friends and picking names out of the hat for the NCAA Tourney. I'm not doing that this year but perhaps we will do it for the kids and pass that tradition on down to them.

And where does that leave me this morning?

I watched the sun come up, and wrote a little bit. I'm getting used to the constant ache in my chest, but I'm also comforted in knowing that Jeff would be real upset if he saw me in such a state of distress.

He was all about making all of us happy. He wanted nothing more than to make me laugh.

So, there will be sauce today with the extended family and I just know that there will be some tears again today.

I just wish the freaking telephone would ring.

Comments

Carrie Lynn Fazzolari said…
I wish we'd all wake up from this nightmare, already. I'd even take George W. back as president.
15 March, 2009
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