Game 3

On March 29 my dad was told he had 3-6 months to live. I cannot explain in words what I felt burst through my heart when he told me those words over the phone from his hospital bed. I write for living and I know a heck of a lot of words, yet nothing in my vocabulary is powerful enough to describe that moment.

My brother decided to order three Phillies tickets for us, as my dad was a huge fan and it would give him something to look forward to. In fact, my dad had said to me he would spend his last months watching the Phils and hoping to see them win the World Series this year and watch them parade down Broad Street.

My father, as you may be aware, didn't make it to the game. He died the following Sunday, April 3.

Chris and I still went to the game last Friday night. His beautiful wife, my sister-in-law, Jessica, joined us. I am so grateful to her for coming -- sitting there with an empty seat would be unbearable.

But it was still hard.

It was hard to watch the team do well because I know he would be cheering.

It was hard to watch them loose the lead because I know he would call them a "bunch of bums".

It will just continue to be hard until it...isn't.

The day my father died I was at the tail end of recovering from pneumonia. I was tired of looking at my own four walls, so I called my mom and asked if I could come over for an hour...to look at her four walls instead. I just really needed to get out for a tiny little bit.

She opened the door and said, "Come in."

I knew something was wrong from her demeanor. Then she told me my dad passed away and we were going to my brother and sister-in-law's house.

While at their home, the Phillies game played on TV.

A few hours later I came back to my home. I threw my purse, coat and scarf on the floor. I fed my cats. I sat down at my dining table and sobbed.

He was supposed to go to the game on 4/15. Watch the Phillies this summer. Watch them win the division, the Pennant, the Series. Cheer as they paraded down Broad Street.

"You didn't even make it to Game 3," I cried out loud.

I love baseball. I love the Phillies. And I hope and pray that they do win the Series this year because I'd like to go to the parade for my dad. Unless they screw it all up -- the bunch of bums.