Go Phillies

My friends say I am like a homing pigeon, always looking to fly back to the nest. Maybe they are right.

As promised I have been busy, making dinner dates, going to the movies, taking the train into New York but always looking forward at the end of the evening to getting back into my own space where I feel the safest and most comfortable. Where I don’t have to worry about what people are thinking or how I should behave or what I should be feeling.

So tonight I chose not to stay over in New York but to take the train home, put on my robe and cuddle up in front to the TV and watch the Phillies. It’s what I would be doing if Steve were here with me. We would have had an early dinner, probably sushi around the corner, then we would have rushed back home in time for the first pitch. I wouldn’t have watched the whole game but I would have wandered in and out of the room checking periodically to see if the Phillies were winning and to scold Steve for eating pretzels. "Sit with me, El," he'd say. "This guy is going to hit a home run. I can feel it."

No pretzels in the house anymore but I still have the Phillies on. I'm hoping they win for Steve’s sake.