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I miss Hans. This should've been painfully obvious for some time now, but it hasn't been: Infact, it just hit me - today - like a ton of bricks. I miss him, I can't see him and we don't really have a place to visit him. Sure, we have the ashes, atop our book case, but there is not really a place for him. This makes me sad. I wish that I could just visit with him. Sucks to be me, eh?

Today is that Cleveland ballteams home opener. That pretty much means that 50,000 dads and lads are cutting out of work and school to catch the game. For some reason, they've all decided to park their cars and take transit to work. Generally, this would thrill me. Parked, or incapacitated cars make me happy; but today, as I rode the train into work, I noticed how happy these tykes were to be with their dads (and vice versa) and it just broke my heart that I couldn't be spending a similar day with my own son.