They say second year’s worse, ‘cause of the full-on realization she’s never coming back.  Wednesday, for the second time since it all, i was screaming; furious at God, religion, karma, destiny, anyone over 64, whatever.  Yesterday, i quit bereavement and threatened my beliefs, demanding a sign i’d see her again.  i truly, hardly fucking believe what happened myself, but tonight, midnight, i got a whopper.  Not exaggerating.   Cannot share it, but feel better about Phyl than i have in a long time.

Add animals:  About tomorrow, Adam shared that when they’d watch the Belmont, he’d discuss with his mom, why there’s been no Triple Crown since before he was born.  Adam told me Phyllis’ theory was that whichever jockey won the first two legs, was under such pressure that he’d be afraid not to start fast, and, because the Belmont is so much longer at 1 ½ miles, the horse’d tire and get passed at the end.  Even now, after 40 years with Phyllis, it surprises me how many things she was into and how much i didn’t realize she knew about those things.

Today i told Adam about Paige’s/California Chrome’s same birthday.  We’ll all be rootin’ for you, fella.