You're Missing

Y'all know me. Go Sawx!

But Nancy, a huge Yankee fan and my best friend, died this year of breast cancer. It's not the same without her.

We would both call in sick on Opening Day just to drink beer and watch games together.

The devastation of her absence, February, ever sneaks up on me insidiously.

When the Sox won in 2004 she made damn sure she was on the phone with me when the final out was made.

It was a long, happy silence. We could hear each other's TV's in the background. OK, I'll say it. I had something in my eye.

She was happy. She is a saint.

Whether they win or lose, I will look to the sky and smile and never forget her. I can feel her watching me. She probably thinks she owes me something for getting her pot while she was going through chemo. I see it another way. She taught me so much about living while you can. She embodied that by rooting for the Sox because she knew if they won it would make me happy. She wanted to wade in that moment with me. I would give a thousand Yankee victories to have her here for one minute more.

Be it known that this was a non-sexual relationship. It was a cheek-kissing, high-fiving deal.

Lefty still plays with the toys she made for him. I have to fight back emotion when I see this.

Like I said, I can feel her watching me. She helped me, even up to this week, to sweep the bullshitters out of my life. I think she'd be happy with the way things are going.

But I miss her.

Listen to the Bruce song "You're Missing'"