March Madness

***A portion of my room at the University of Kansas during March Madness, 1991***

Alright, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the best sporting event of the year, the NCAA Men's College Basketball Tournament. I spent last weekend sitting on my butt at the Metrodome in Minneapolis, watching four games on Friday and two on Sunday. Most important is that two of those games were wins by KU--Rock Chalk Jayhawk!!! I believe that's the first time I've seen them in person since the 1993 NCAA Tourney, when I saw them in the Sweet 16 in St. Louis--KU beat Indiana and then Cal to advance to the Final Four, where they lost to North Carolina. I watched the Carolina game in my new home in Tahoe. Seventeen months later, I adopted Bernie. The photo above is my room at KU during the 1991 tournament. Each year--at least when KU went on one of its blistering tournament runs--life as we knew it at KU basically ceased to exist. Big-time good times of all kinds with a few classes thrown in the mix. I'm sure now there is a slight more feeling of entitlement at ol' KU now than back then--when we were in a way as surprised as anyone when we'd survive and advance, often with authority!--but on the other hand, KU has certainly taken its lumps in the tourney this decade. Bruised, battered, and scarred but hard (once again I quote Chuck D), we are. And we're still defending champs!!!

Talked about Bernie with a friend tonight, more misty eyes from across the table to surprise me. Her beds are still in place, as are her food bowls. Soon I will plant some flowers in them and move them outside, the bowls that is. Her wet-nose markings are still on the glass back door. I'm not sure of their fate. I won't leave them forever, but I can't really think of a pressing reason to wipe them down. If I'm repeating myself it's only because these are the things I see and think each day still. Bernie's leash hangs by the door, at the ready for a walk. I still need to clean up a few of her the "souvenirs" she left in the backyard. The snow just melted, so I'll get to that soon. No real sentiment with those, though I do know which pile is her last. That's kind of sad. I enjoy a bit more freedom now but still feel a cold splash of water on my face occasionally when I come home and it registers, once again, that she isn't there waiting for me. I don't dwell on it, but it does feel hollow here in this house. I remember when I was a kid returning from a vacation where I'd stayed in a room with someone to sleeping in a room alone again, how it felt like the end of something. When your best buddy of 15 years disappears, you keep her here as well as you can. But it's the end that wins your mind.