Oof.

I just updated the little scrapbook my mom gave me for this little endeavor (filled with well-wishes from everyone who attended our kick-off/ Nick's 30th birthday party at PNC Park) with the stubs and notes from the Nats game.  I had the end of The Green Hornet (Seth Rogan edition-- it's a pretty awesomely awful travesty of a movie) on for background noise, when it hit me that this was the last movie Nick saw in a theater.

Sigh.  Oh, those precious moments of emotional sucker punches right in a spot already tender as hell.  Those moments when my desperate but tenuous grasp on my emotional control slips completely.  At least I was in private-- unlike those moments at Camden Yards or yesterday at Nationals Park where, surrounded by thousands of people having a grrrrrrrrrrrreat time.  Those are the times the grief likes to cling, the invisible anchor weighing me down.  It's almost like my own personal emotional humidity-- sapping my strength and occasionally erupting into a violent storm, after which it worsens as often as it eases.

I know, I know.  One step at a time, it's a process, etcetera, etcetera, ad infinitum, ad nauseum.

At some point, I will actually write up each of the stadiums (can I say stadia?  I really want to use stadia, but I'm afraid of sounding pretentious).  But each visit is emotionally taxing-- heck, each time I update this blog, it's emotionally taxing-- so my write-ups will have to wait a little longer.

But it's okay, I think.  It's going to take a while to visit the stadiums (stadia!) outside of my metro area(s), so there will be plenty of time to catch up.