7:47 on Sunday night and I am still exhausted, still in my Happy Chair, and still hungover (*) from yesterday. Every square inch of me hurts and is worn out. My head and eyes are heavy, my legs are crampy, and I'm not sure if my poor tired little brain will ever recover.
But you know what, Dearies?
I can't wait to do it again!
Highlights of the day are too extensive to remember/mention, but I made great strides in the remembering who I am department. My copious tears were all happy ones. Jersey Boy surprised me with a few of his own, but considering they were the first I've seen from him in twenty eight years, I'll keep the cause of them private.
Our tailgate party was wonderful, and Rich's friends went above and beyond with the food and hospitality. Our neighbor in the tailgate lot was visiting from Long Island, and as we chatted I learned that his son Kevin is a Freshman and a remarkable young man. Soon, Kevin himself joined us, and I got to hear all about life as a student and how it is the same and yet very different from my time on campus. This kid was heavily recruited to come here and was in the top 1% of the applicant pool, and I can honestly say I don't remember when I have been so impressed by a person that age.
Godspeed, dear Kevin. I hope your time here is blessed and the beginning of an extraordinary life for you!
My walk to the stadium was just about ready to end in complete surrender when Rich spid a guy driving a golf cart and flagged him down. Turns out, the guy is one of the Regional Directors of Development and was probably on his way to gather VIP's from the private tailgating tents and drive them to their seats, but do you know what that guy did? He invited us to hop in, introduced himself, and then drove us through the crowd right up to our gate.
This angel's name is Marty Harshman, and I can tell you that his simple act of kindness and compassion meant so much to me. I am a complete nobody at Notre Dame, and given my current level of success in life, they would probably wish I would stop advertising that I went there...but Marty treated me with such dignity and respect that I forgot all of that for a minute and remembered why I love the place so darn much.
Thank you, Marty. You really exemplified what's best about our university.
The highlight, though, had to be when the Notre Dame hockey team was honored, and their little friend Rudy ran out on the field to join them. Rudy is six years old and is battling cancer, and the team has adopted him and made him an honorary member of the team. As God is my witness, there was not one person with a single dry eye when that little kid got lifted up onto their shoulders and 80,000 people chanted "Ru-dy...Ru-dy."
On the TMI side of things, I discovered a very happy side effect of dialysis. I did not have to use the restroom one time in the thirteen hours I was away from home. No porta-potty or treck down a thousand steps in the stadium for me!
I'm off to bed now. My body and mind need a nice long rest before the week begins!
I hope your weekend was swell and that your heart is as full as mine is tonight! Come tell me all about it!
(*) It's not an alcohol hangover. I don't imbibe (and make no judgements of those who do). It's a physical, mental, and emotional hangover.
(**) My food hangovers usually happen sometime around Christmas and Easter, when I eat my considerable body weight in Honeybaked Ham, but this one, sadly, had no ham involved whatsoever.