I don't remember the game all that much, but I do remember that someone took a photo of me and my dad that I love to this day. He was so happy and I was too (even though you can't really tell it in the picture). I think my mom didn't go because she wanted us to go and have a good memory (even though she says that Baby Girl was sick). We talked about a lot of things, the history of the stadium, the Cowboys, players, positions, and life in general. I hoped that we could do more of that later, but we can't.
That memory was what I was thinking about when dad died. At least I have that memory of something great with my dad. It's kind of neat to think that my dad and I went to a game in a stadium that "died" itself later. On the day of my dad's funeral they exploded Texas Stadium. My mom found a video that had cameras inside the stadium when it imploded and I could just imagine my dad sitting in the third row at the 50 yard line as it happened and thinking how cool it all looked. And thinking, "Now THIS is a view!"
