Hallmark has a card for it.

I don't know how to write about it. It's been one year since Eddie died. I have tried to write about that day, about the moments that crashed across those of us who loved him. But I can't do them justice. So I won't try.
I learned that day that I can be immeasurably fragile and unquestionably strong at the same time.
That day tempered me, and I'm still raw from the forge. I'm on the right path, I suppose. But I was changed by his passing, as I was changed by his life.
I miss you, Mr. No-Hair. I'm hugging you in my heart, Mrs. No-Hair. I love you both.

Prime again

I turned 31 today. Last year I spent the birthday soaking my feet in a wading pool on the porch while drinking cheap beer out of the cooler (softball leftovers). This year, I took my daughter to the gymnastics and dance academy for open gym, spent the afternoon trying not to clean the house, and playing play-doh fun factory. Another daddy birthday. Where are the strippers? The debauchery and hilarity? Well, none of that. Just a little fattening food.

The day did have a very bright side to it. I finally got to meet the family foretold to me by Mr. and Mrs. No-Hair oh so long ago. We had dinner with The Crazy Mexicans. Who, despite the nickname, were not crazy. They just have a two year old. That qualifies anyone as slightly insane, though they were as genuine and down to earth as you could ever ask for. I feel more at home tonight than I have felt since coming to Texas. I feel adopted by some great people.

My wife fell asleep while putting my daughter to bed. This is probably a 70% of the time occurrence. I suppose that means I get to dive into the book she got me for my birthday, The Gates of the Alamo. Not a bad ending for the day, though I will admit to having my goals set a little... differently... ;)

I miss him

"Hi. I know this is odd, but I live in Kansas and I have some bad news for you. Your son/nephew/friend/son-in-law/brother Eddie has died suddenly. I am at the hospital now with his wife. She needed me to call you, because she is hurting right now. We think it was related to a blood clot. It was unexpected, fast, and we are hurting. I am his friend, his mentor, his beer-drinking buddy. He was my poker teacher, my daughter's No-Hair friend, and my hallway companion. Please come if you can, and I will call you again when I know more."

I came when the EMT's called for me. I drove his wife to the hospital, and held her as the Chaplain told us the awful truth. He had beaten Hodgkin's Lymphoma, survived the Marines in Desert Storm, devoted his life to bringing to others a strength to fight. And a damn blood clot took him down as he prepared to go see a doctor. His wife, Jen, is the sweetest, gentlest person and they loved each other dearly. And her world has crashed around her.

It is an awful honor, to make that call again and again. To serve Eddie and Jen, to stand when they couldn't. But oh it has laid me low. And I fear for Jen.

Eddie, my friend, I miss you so much. I keep seeing you in the doorway of my classroom, and I stand alone where we used to laugh and scheme.

How awful to measure my years in Kansas in terms of tombstones. Steve, Eli, Art, Scott, Zach, Pam, Eddie. Is this what years gain me? Is it a growing list of loss? Is there a Sunday in this terrible calendar that will give a day of rest for the wives, the parents, the brothers, the friends?

I pray that my phone doesn't ring, or that I don't have to pick it up to call. "Hi, my name is Colin, and although we have never met, I am handing you pain and sorrow. Forgive me."

These chips need more salt

I spent the day at a casino. Playing poker. Texas hold 'em. What the hell? Certainly not normal for me. Spending 15 bucks on new underwear stresses me the hell out, so how could I sit down with $120 and play some 3-6 limit cards, much less for over 5 hours? There are a few factors that come into play...

• The teacher across the hall, affectionately dubbed "No Hair" by my daughter. He's bald, and plays a lot of poker. At a casino, online, with friends, at the drop of a hat, he will break out his mad poker skillz. He talked me into joining in, and gave me pointers before hand and during lunch to improve my play. Sound advice, from a man who spends as much time playing as I spend chasing my daughter.
  
• Spring break is only spring break if at least one day out of the break I goof off. I hadn't done that yet, and today was the last day. So far the break has consisted of house cleaning, bad spinal news and more physical therapy, and potty training.
  
• I needed to have a sustained, day long control-freak heart attack.

I was shaking like meth addict three days into rehab. I made some beginner blunders, that's for sure. But damn, it was fun. I folded, checked, raised, called, bluffed, got caught bluffing, and had a great time. It has some limitations for me as a lifelong hobby...

• First, it is a solo thing. Sure, you're in a group, but it's not a chatty, friendly bunch of guys. It's a bunch of people trying to trick you into talking your money into their hands.
• Secondly, it's money. Want to know what I stress about? Money. More than anything else in the world. It makes me a little nauseous. I never spend $100 for fun, much less gamble with it.
  
• Last, time. Poker takes time, and frankly, I don't have much. I would have to trade out my bass playing hobby, and I'd rather give up my liver than my bass.

So I will go again, and I will like it. I will even seek out opportunities to play. But I think the folks at 1-800-BETS-OFF won't be hearing from me anytime soon.

Oh, and how did I do? My $120 went back in the bank, I bought lunch, and I have enough left for a trip to the bookstore. It probably would have been better for my financial future if I had lost it all, but coming home with extra cash is great for the ego.