Because I'm living out of boxes still.
But I woke up realizing I didn't know where the shirt was, and that I needed it today but it's buried in the avalanche of moving.
If I could find it I'd have it on.
I'm both fascinated and annoyed with Wikipedia's summary of events. I guess all events become just factual....the emotions fade and drift and it all boils down to just the XYZ of the post-mortem examination of the tragedy itself.
When trying to decide what to say today to honor my friend who is gone, I realized that what I said last year was probably best......
I have put a lot of thought into what I was going to say today.
I didn't really come up with anything good.
I feel it's more important to make sure whatever occupies this space is about Bobby, not about me, and I think I'm too deeply engrossed in my own selfish grief to honestly write something like that.
But Porter helped me out. He sent me an email and said:
I need to send you a few “Bobbyisms”……
-Bacon and cheese make all food better
-Sometimes you gotta choke somebody to make an example for the rest of the team
-You try to sleep with every girl you date. If she does it, she is a whore, don’t go out with her again. If she won’t sleep with you, she has potential.
-You never drink lemon-lime Gatorade…especially if it’s warm.
-Rubbing someone’s ear can make anything better. Especially if they are virgin (un-pierced) ears.
-You know you’re team is going to have a good year if they have a few thugs playing for them. If you have too many “nice guys” your team is gonna suck.
-Michael Jackson is innocent.
Which reminded me that Bobby was one of the first people who didn't stare at me like I was insane when I told him I was going to name my son Louis. His response was "Oh HELL yeah, you gotta call him Louie. Because Louie is a guy who will always pick up the round when it's his turn."
We miss you man.
I miss you.
*** Post Script - my husband went through boxes in the garage until he found Bobby's shirt.