When Life Throws You Curve Balls......

Sometimes life throws you curve balls. Even when you fully anticipate it and think you know what you are doing, along comes that pitch that almost takes you out of the game.

You swing hard, but it’s too late.

STRIKE

The anger boils and you want to shout.

Shout about being taking advantage of.

Shout about the lack of gratitude.

Shout about working your tail off for little reward.

Shout about being stabbed in the back.

Shout about friends turning their back on you.

Shout about being rejected.

Shout about not moving forward.

Shout about gaining a couple pounds.

Shout about shouting.

But what good does shouting do. It’s small and bitter and gets you nowhere.

Which is why you gotta get it out, right?

At some point during the shouting, the intense chutzpah needed to fight life back catches you.

It’s up to you.

It’s up to you to either walk away with your head down, feet dragging or to step up to the plate, keep your eye on the ball and start swinging.

It takes three strikes to put you out.

Come back swinging harder and faster than ever have before.

Look life in the eye and say, “Is that the best you've got, because it was piss weak.

Go on and try that again.

The next curve ball you throw, I'm gonna hit outta the park." 

Hold on, I Wanna Call a Do-Over..

When I was a kid, I used to call “do-overs.” It happened a lot when we would play kick ball.

Kick the ball off the side of your foot? Just call a do-over and you got another chance. Of course this depended on who you were playing with. When playing with my dad, he wouldn't hear of a do-over…no %#@*’n way…but if you were with kids who liked do-overs, you could call one and get a second chance.

The do-over was one of childhood's most potent customs, for it applied our power over the laws of space and time. The clock was rolled back, the game was restored to its exact status as before the challenged event and play was resumed. If the original play was important and the second attempt was dramatically different (ex: the player striking out instead of hitting a multi-base shot as in the original play), the do-over might be used again. This second request would give the team another chance thereby insuring that the universal forces of fair play were being honestly maintained.

Last Friday when I arrived home from work, a familiar silver car was in the driveway.  When I walked into the house, I saw a couple empty water bottles on my kitchen counter.  The silverware drawer was part way open.  I saw that the ketchup bottle left out.  I saw a La Roche baseball hat on my dining room table.  When I looked outside,  I saw the glider on the back patio gliding back and forth….I saw Tyler….headphones on, eyes closed, rocking on the glider. 

My boy was home!

Yesterday when I arrived home from work there was no silver car in the driveway.  The kitchen was just as I left it when I went to work….no empty water bottles, no ketchup left out, no La Roche baseball hat lying around.  It was quiet. Too quiet.  I looked out onto the back patio.  I don’t know why I did.  I knew he wasn't there……

So, I’d like a do-over.  I’d like to roll the clock back to yesterday afternoon.  I want to do-over this weekend and make it like last weekend. 

Tyler and Briana were both home last weekend.  It was a great time!  They spent time together at both homes and both families spent Saturday night together at the Canfield Fair.  The kids decided to head back to Pittsburgh early Monday since they had homework. The long holiday weekend wasn't long enough.  “They” say it gets easier each time your child leaves to return to college.  I think “they” are full of beans! 

 So far this weekend sucks.  I feel sad and grumpy.  My house is too quiet.  I'd simply like to call a do-over.  

Wouldn't it be great if we could just rewind our lives and have a do over whenever we wanted? Imagine the untold blessings it would bring if we could simply call a do-over--- to roll back the clock to an exact time when life was perfect...

Makes sense to me....