Summertime.
It's the "feel" of the season that can trigger the emotions. The sun on my shoulders, another layer of sunscreen, a quick dip in the pool, washing the uniform, finding the forever lost cleats, making more sandwiches, searching for his lucky game ball, find my phone, slip into a shift, ice for the cooler, turn off the t.v., leave the house wide open, latch the screen doors, put the sweet black dog on duty & arrive before the first pitch.
The "feel" of the season, it all comes rushing back.
On early morning walks with Gracie, I hear young players cracking bats & balls off in the distance and the whirl of the big sprinklers keeping it all green.
Funny how the field where my # 5 covered first now seems so small.
I will always be a little league mom. I will always know the "feel" of the season and be thankful for the good times our families spent together. I will always adore Delia's braids on the hottest of days.
And remember Louie watching big brother play from the best seat above the dugout.
The seasons spent together, Amy and I on the bleachers, the dads in the dugout, and our sons on the field, they are wonderful threads in the tapestry of life. Sometimes life gets overwhelming and I forget.
It takes the "feel" of the season to remind me that there is always time enough to remember. But there is never time enough to commemorate what we cherish unless we pause to observe and give thanks.
Thank you, Amy.
Turn up the volume, grab a mitt & come join us out in the bluegrass for one last practice.
photos & video by me
