Three Good Days

Carol and I achieved the coveted triple play - three good days in a row.

Kicked it off on Sunday with the quintessential, lazy, summer day. Took care of a few chores then settled in to the Sunday paper, Rolling Stone and Time magazines, racing and the Sox.

And cribbage. Always cribbage.

Journeyed out to the garden, Sangria in hand, and dug the sun and the beauty and the fountain and the type of conversation that results from spending 37 years together.

Later I whipped up burritos (I make killer burritos), which we washed down with more Sangria, then it was couch and recliner time in front of that addiction - TV.

A sweet, slow moving, deliciously warm and lazy day.

Monday - we survived the work day to be rewarded with a night out with Keith, Emily and Emily's parents, who were visiting.

For massive burgers.

A local restaurant features an annual burgerfest which Keith and Emily regularly attend. They rave about it and we finally made it with them.

Fabulous food, designer beers, some of the proceeds going to charity, and a chance to spend the night with our son, his amazing wife and her very cool and likable parents.

Tuesday - Fenway Park, baby. Carol and I lucked into free tickets for the second time this season. Drove part way, trained the rest, got there 45 minutes early and sat in old school seats in an old school section on a warm, overcast day.

As I sat digging on the splendor that is Fenway, my motions overwhelmed me. Surprised?

I was thinking about the upcoming weekend.

On Saturday Carol and I will be attending a funeral service for our nephew Kevin. He committed suicide on March 14.

Even after 3 months it will be difficult. Good to see Paul and Jeff, tough to see Paul and Jeff.

I was thinking that Kevin will never again sit in a seat at Fenway. I was thinking how lucky Carol and I are to get free tickets, to enjoy each other's company, to spend time together digging the Sox who Carol loves deeply.

I was thinking about Father's Day and my brother Ed. His son Jonathan died of an overdose on December 17, 2014. This will be Eddie's first father's day since and it will be enormously hard. My heart aches for him. I don't know what to do; I don't know what to say.

I cried a little, quietly, in the anonymity of beautiful Fenway.

But I came around. We saw a great game. The Sox kicked ass. Brock Holt hit for the cycle. The sun came out late in the game and it was gorgeous.

I am viciously aware of how difficult it is to have good days. How precious they are and how they must be appreciated.

Life changes instantaneously. You cannot risk missing out on whatever beauty and joy you can experience.

Carol and I put together three good days.

Magnificent.