A Day Without Knowing

My boyfriend is in combat. He's probably going to be mad that I called him that, since it's not "official." But, for the purposes of this blog, he can stick it in his ear (hi baby :*).
As I was saying...he's in combat. And on occasion, there is no way to know if he still lives. These are pretty bad days for me, as you might imagine. I'm getting better at not losing my mind during these days, but it's still stressful. I've discovered that the Catholic idea of praying with a rosary and lighting candles is a very good one. It helps to hold, to speak, and to do.
Or rather, it helps me.

The Colorado Rockies made a superlative-ridden dash to the playoffs this year. I helped them get into the post season by wearing exactly the same outfit for three straight days. It was pretty hard putting those socks on for the third time, and I was a little afraid the socks were going to start eating through my shoes like acid. But I did what I had to, for the team! For four magical weeks my sister and I (and the whole state of Colorado, really) went stark raving mad with Rocky Mountain Purple Fever. We made up nicknames to spur the players on to greatness, we sang the intro to "Sweet Escape" at the top of our lungs (it being Spillbourghs' theme song), we created ritual sayings that were muttered as earnestly as any Hail Mary or Our Father. And the Baseball Gods smiled upon us (Well, they did until we ran into the Red Sox, who are clearly sponsored by the Devil himself).

Why do we do these things??? Is it the height of arrogance to think our actions have any impact on things so much bigger than us? Or is it in the depths of desperation that we cling to the idea we might have some small measure of control?

Maybe. But I submit to you that it's something else altogether. We need to feel connected. When we're faced with something as huge and important as death, or the playoffs, we need to feel like we have, in some small way, played our part to bring about a happy outcome. Whether or not it's acknowledged by anyone else, we need to know we've moved from mere spectation to actual involvement in the relationship. Whether it's coming home safely from war, or winning a pennant, or some other scenario, we want to help. Roosevelt said, "Do what you can, with what you have, where you are." Sometimes candles and dirty socks are all you have where you are.

On a Day Without Knowing, what else can you do?