Yesterday was a big day for my city. In two weeks, my beloved Chiefs are headed back to the biggest football game. Like the week before, I gathered with my neighborhood crew to watch the game. If you didn’t watch, the game was a nailbiter. In the end, our team pulled through and across town we were a bunch of fools jumping and screaming in excitement. I was filled with adrenaline for hours after the clock finally hit zeros.
Immediately after the game we went into planning mode for the next one. I had already offered to host the super watch party regardless of the result.
We decided we needed to do everything we did in 2020 to help the Chiefs secure the ultimate win. I would host and we’d put together a taco bar for the eats. We’d have a broom out because during that game one of the ladies started sweeping up shredded cheese and we are convinced that was the turning point in the 2020 game. Apparently, I also need to set the patio television to Spanish. It’s fun to reminisce about that day. One of our friends is also a 49ers fan, so in the cover of night, Tony and I had spray painted a giant KC symbol in his front yard and ours. Then we swore we had no idea how it happened. It was a beautiful 60-degree day, which is anomaly for February in Kansas City. So, we enjoyed a spring-like day before heading inside to watch a game that made us feel like the champions. There were fireworks in the streets and champagne toasts late into the night that made for tired eyes in the morning.
However, no matter how hard we try and replicate that day in 2020, it will never be the same. We are all missing someone to complete the picture. Tony will not be here in the physical sense. He won’t setup a cornhole game.
He won’t be making a batch of bloody marys for everyone. If I want to paint the yard again, I’ll be doing it alone. Most importantly, I won’t have him to hug and share a champagne toast with when it’s all over. Because no matter how the game ends, those things are in order.
These are the secondary losses we know so well. The small things that others don’t always see that hurt us. I still love cheering on our team, but sometimes it’s just different without him here. When everyone goes home and the adrenaline is still working, I don’t have anyone to reminisce with.
I had a thought last night that I might bring his ashes down to the basement to watch the game with us. There are two weeks before I really decide. No matter what I do though, it’ll never be the same as it was before.