I've tried to have a post each Tuesday in recognition that there is always an election going on somewhere on a Tuesday.
Plus, as those in the election world can attest, the Tuesday election day is often the slowest day in the cycle. The work is done and we leave the day open for mayhem, and thankfully there usually isn't any.
Today's Tuesday post is brief.
My father died this morning at 1 a.m. He was 82.
He suffered a stroke last year and his energy level dropped over the fall and winter. In fact, I planned to take him to a Royals game last September and he didn't have the stamina to go.
He took me to the All-Star game when it was in Kansas City in 1973. I still have the ticket stubs.
I knew he couldn't go this year, hosted again in Kansas City, and I probably couldn't have gotten tickets, anyway, so I was planning to be with him on July 10 (also a Tuesday) and watch it on television.
In 1985, he obtained two tickets to game seven of the World Series, Royals-Cardinals, and he gave them to me on the condition that I went with my brother. It was the biggest moment up until then for the Royals--and it remains their biggest moment--and he passed so his two sons could go.
He was a Rotarian and believed in "service above self." My brother died years ago (it's a very odd feeling to be the only family member still living from my childhood Christmas photos) and my dad also gave me a defining memory of my brother from sharing that World Series celebratory night, one of the greatest nights ever to be living in Kansas City.
I was with him on March 24 and it was clear he was declining. I visited him yesterday afternoon after coming back in town from training, and I was not surprised to get the call this morning.
Since I've been at the election office, I've never been quite sure he understood exactly what I did. With him leaving on a Tuesday, I think he did.