I had one kid on my block who was my age growing up. Travon lived about nine houses down with his mom and grandma. My childhood was playing his Nintendo and him coming to my house to shoot hoops on the court in our driveway. The routine was years old. When bored, I’d walk to his house, noting if his mom’s car was there. If its wasn’t, he wasn’t home, and if he was, I respected the Latch Key Kid credo. If you’re home alone, then you can’t answer the door.

When he came down to my house, he’d ring the bell, and our doorbell buzzed. It was not a pleasant sound, but I would jump up and come to the front door. If I got clearance, I went out to play. If not, I would sadly explain that I had to stay in, or we were going to go somewhere, or I was on punishment.

I got married for a ton of reasons, but one of the things I looked forward to was doing things with a person I loved, cared about, and with whom everything was just better. The food tasted better, the sky more blue, the hotel room more lavish, the city more mysterious and welcoming with my wife with me.

My wife recently had surgery, and is still mending, and will be for a while. Imagining the time when we can go do things, see things. So many things to eat, things to sip!

I imagine myself as that kid, waiting on the steps, waiting for my friend to come outside with me so we can go play.