Just Like That.....

Just like that….. 

     the call woke me from my sleep 

     my sister calling to say my dad was called to the hospital 

     wait, what? I just talked to her she was doing okay, 

     she sounded winded and tired but okay 

     this must be a dream- a bad one 

Just like that… 

     my phone rang again

     deep in my heart I knew what I was going to hear

     taking a deep breath, I answered

     kim, she didn’t make it 

     Then I heard sobbing….my sobbing 

     I called my other sister 

     she knew what I was going to say- 

     we cried on the phone together 

Just like that… 

     one husband lost the love of his life 

     four daughters lost their mom 

     six grandchildren lost their grandmother …………………………………………………………………………………………………… 

It was decided that I would give the eulogy at my mom’s funeral. I have done a lot of public speaking but this was by far the hardest speech I ever gave. As I spoke, I kept glancing at my dad who stared straight ahead at the casket…nodding when appropriate and sometimes smiling at what I said. 

One thing I can say for certain is that we were not ready for this….

             My dad just bought her the house she wanted in Florida, 

                Great grandkids still have things for her to attend , 

                    Grandkids still have weddings and new babies coming, 

                        Kids- her girls - still need their mom    

 My parents' love story started many, many years ago. Young teenagers who fell in love and were married in 1966 when my dad was 16 and my mom was 15. You don’t hear of that too often. I mean, I work with students that age and they can’t even remember their Chromebook password so I can’t imagine any of them getting married. My parents would have celebrated their 57th  anniversary this past December. To say that is amazing is an understatement. They were best friends and soul mates. You rarely saw one without the other. Classic car cruises became their together-hobby. They attended cruises and car shows here and in Florida. They own more than one classic car, because, well, that’s what my mom wanted.

 Jim and Jake….Jake and Jim…why “Jake” many have asked……simply put- he didn’t like her name and started calling her Jake when they were kids and it stuck.

 My mom had 4 girls by the age of 26. 4 girls! I would love to say we were all angels….but that would be lying. We were typical siblings who argued, fought and were sassy teenagers. Because of this my mother perfected what I called her “wooden spoon backhand”. Let it be known that “wooden spoon” could stand for a hairbrush, wooden paddle or even one time, a paint brush. You never knew when it was coming or where it would land. Oh, and if you weren’t the intended target but you were in the near vicinity, you were getting it too. Except for Jamie - who was spoiled and never knew the wrath of the “wooden spoon”.

 On the other end of this, though, is how kind and giving my mother was. A place to stay, financial assistance or just an ear to listen….she was forever saying to people, “let’s go for coffee soon”. And I can’t count the number of times over the years that friends and family stayed at our home when needed.

 For the last few years, she crotched 100s of winter hats for students at Union Elementary. She crocheted blankets and baby outfits for new babies, slippers for her great-niece that couldn’t wear shoes, and blankets for whoever she felt needed one. One year she made mats for the homeless out of Walmart bags. She carried around a bag of bags for a couple months while making them. And, of course, we called her the BAG LADY because of it.

 My mother loved animals….some days I think she loved animals more than people. Over the years she had dogs, cats, birds, ducks, rabbits, turtles and even a pot-belly pig. She had a stroller for her dogs and would take them to the ballfield with her because, well, who didn’t take a stroller full of little dogs to the ballfield? Her love for animals extended to critters that would stop by their yard —birds, squirrels, wild ducks, turkey and deer. She was always calling to tell me the different birds she saw in her feeders and to talk about the pair of ducks who would swim in the pool. AND she loved to try and hand feed the critters. She fed the ducks and turkey that came to the yard. One of my earliest memories of her hand feeding critters was a camping trip when we were kids. A pregnant skunk waddled up every night looking around. After a couple nights, my mom decided to feed it. I watched from the safety of the tent as my mom hand fed that skunk marshmallows. As they were bonding, her dog decided to join.  Long story short - camping

trip ended with a stinky, pink dog because my mom bathed a white dog in tomato juice.

 My mom loved safari type places such as Wagon Trails and Keystone safari. And even though she feared heights, my dad was able to talk her into riding an elephant years ago and more recently a camel when they were in Egypt.

 

We were all very active growing up. She sat at all types of sporting events- in all kinds of weather-, concerts, assemblies and even chaperoned school trips. That didn’t stop when we were grown- not only did she attend doctor appointments, surgeries and other stuff for us but also started attending sporting events, concerts and assemblies for her grandchildren and then great grandchildren. She was always there. Heck, on the day I had Tyler, my mom was at the hospital before I was! It’s safe to say my mom lived for her husband, kids, grandkids and great grandkids.

 The passing of my mom left a huge hole in our lives and hearts – we lost our biggest cheerleader and my dad is lost his soulmate.

 If you knew my mom, I guarantee that the first thing you think is that she was always around

    .....always there

        .....showing up

            .....always present

My  mother was not the overly affection type of person and, of course, she was not perfect but she taught us the most valuable lesson and showed her love in the best way she knew how. She taught us that being  present is an irreplaceable gift that we can give to our family and friends.

And just like that...        

    .....I know her presence will always be felt in my life.

He Will Always be the Baby in my Heart........

I sat there watching his lips moving as he talked about work but I didn’t hear a single word he said.  Instead, my attention was drawn to the stubble that sprinkled his cheeks and chin.

He’s no longer my baby boy…..

This man, my Tyler, is turning 20.   And as ridiculous and dramatic as it sounds, it's moments like these when I notice… really notice… that he truly is grown up now.

I ache for the years that have melted away.

I ache…

...for the years when his chin was a place I wiped dribbles of mac and cheese from, not a place he needed to shave.

...for the years when I was drawn into his little face by his cheesy grin  and adorable cheeks. I could stare at him for hours back then… while he slept, while he ate, while we just cuddled in the rocking chair.  

It’s not so cool to stare at him now.

I remember holding him in the hospital….his quiet gaze, looking right into my eyes, as if he were memorizing my face; his cute little button nose; his teeny fingernails; …I treasure countless memories of that day.

I blinked, and it’s now 20 years later.

We coexist as adults for the most part, chatting about school or work, and mostly doing our own thing.  I love having adult conversations with him, especially when we discuss  baseball and college basketball.  And although I love to hear his laugh, I miss hearing his devilish childhood giggle.  I miss seeing his feet stick out from under a blanket pretending to be asleep and then tensing up because he knew I was coming to tickle him.  Life moves forward and it’s easy to forget that he was my baby.

Is my baby, still.

I know that 21 is supposed to be the big exciting age because a person can legally drink alcohol.  But to me, 20 is more significant.  Tyler is leaving his teens behind forever.  As a man in his 20's, he’s part of the adult world now, and this decade of his life will probably see the greatest number of meaningful changes.

Tyler turning 20 also means that I’ve been doing this mother-thing for two decades.  Wow, are you kidding me?  How do I wrap my mind around this? Like all new moms, I had no idea what I was doing.  I guess at some point along the way, I figured it out.  I needed to parent, to counsel and to adore. To build his confidence and his character, to help him survive heartbreak and disappointment and move forward with dignity.  I raised him for the future and not the present day.  He needs to be able to survive when I’m no longer around.  

As I watched him talk and laugh I was awed by the simple fact that I am his mom. That I was given these 20 years with him unconditionally, even though I had no experience and there were no guarantees that I would be a good mother.

I just made it up as I went along.

There are no second chances….No do-overs.  But you know what?  I wouldn’t really change a thing. Because my boy, this young man who will be turning 20 in a couple days, has given me the incredible gift of just being his mom.

And he will always be the baby in my heart.

“All I Really Need To Know I Learned Coaching Preschool Basketball”

Working with these little ones reminds me of the poem, "All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten", by Robert Fulghum. The poem starts like this….

Most of what I really need

To know about how to live

And what to do and how to be

I learned in kindergarten.

Wisdom was not at the top

Of the graduate school mountain,

But there in the sand pile at Sunday school.

The poem goes on to list important life lessons that are learned in kindergarten such as….

Share everything.

Play fair.

Don't hit people.

Put things back where you found them.

Clean up your own mess.

Don't take things that aren't yours.

Say you're sorry when you hurt somebody.

Wash your hands before you eat.

Flush.

I’ve created my own list and called it, “All I Really Need To Know I Learned Coaching Preschool Basketball”.

These are the things I learned from my little kiddos:

• Who cares what your jumping jacks look like, just do them.
• It’s okay to admit that your legs are tired and they need to sit.
• No matter the age, girls stick together.
• When you gotta pee, you gotta pee no matter what you are doing or how old you are.
• The coach is expected to provide snacks.
• Water breaks are important even if you use them to go say hi to Nana.
• If the offense wants to be called “princesses” instead of “offense”, its’ okay.
• If the defense wants to be Ninjas, it’s okay.
• Let them run…And run....And run.
• Hugs are going to happen….just give in and let it happen.
• New shoes are the BEST, even if they are on the wrong feet!
• If you kneel on the floor, they will use you as a jungle gym….don’t fight it.
• Red light, green light, purple light is always appropriate.
• Nose picking will happen.
• When a preschool boy covers his jewels, he is NOT preparing to set a pick like the high    school boys, he has to pee NOW.
• Not every child knows the game of basketball, but every child does want to have fun and be part of a group.
• Lastly, it’s okay to scrap the agenda and just have fun. 

 At the end of the night, each child puts on his/her coat and hugs me before they leave.  They thank me and tell me where they are going for dinner and a couple have even invited me to join them.  

I've learned that my preschool players can make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside no matter what kind of day I've had.  

I can’t wait to see what I learn next week…….

I'm Never Coaching Again......

I decided eight years ago that I was done with coaching.  
From age 22 to 40 I had coached 
   varsity volleyball,   

      junior varsity volleyball,

          junior varsity basketball,

              youth softball,

                   young women’s softball,

                       t-ball, and

 youth basketball grades two- six.  

I attended team camps,

ran team camps,

attended award ceremonies,

spoke at award ceremonies,

attended team parties,

planned team parties,

ordered trophies, bought trophies

       and gave out trophies.  

I planned practices,

fought for gym time to have practices,

   ran practices,

      made calls about practices,

         cancelled practices,

             made calls about cancelled practices,

                  arranged my schedule for practices, and

                         missed family functions for practices.

I dealt with great parents,

         great players with great attitudes,

              not-so-great players with great attitudes,

                    great players with terrible attitudes,

                           parents with terrible attitudes, and

                                 a few parents and players that were absolutely crazy.

After 18 years of that plus so much more, I decided I was done coaching.  I wanted to be the parent, or aunt or friend in the stands who cheered too loudly and took pictures.  I was never going to coach a team again.  And I didn’t…

Until last week.

I got a message that my great-niece would have a basketball game January 23^rd.  Sweet! I could go and take pictures.  Then another message came through that said IF they find a coach.  Long story short, after the second email from the program director at the YMCA, I was coaching two age groups; 3-4 year olds and 8-11 year olds.  

On Friday evening I showed up at the YMCA for my hour long practices with my basketball coaching clipboard holding my practice plans for both age groups, my new whistle, and a sharpie and name-tags.  I had no idea what to expect since coaching at the YMCA was something new to add to my resume.  Nonetheless, I was super excited to get started.

I introduced myself to the program director (who had laryngitis) and he gave me a quick run down.  Basically, it went something like this:

“Hi, Kim, nice to meet you.  You will be on this side of the court with the 3 and 4 year olds while the other parent volunteer is on the other side with the 5 to 7 year olds.  The main priority with the preschool age kids is that they have fun.  They will use the very small balls and plastic hoops. You have 10 kids on the roster and probably a few more will be added on later this week.  They will practice for an hour tonight and starting next week they will play games on Saturdays. Any questions? No? Good.  I’ll be around for a little while but then I need to take off.  It’s great to have a volunteer with experience.”

And off he went.  Sure, I had questions…..such as who is assisting me but I never got the chance to ask it.  

No big deal.  I can do this!  I’ll just keep it simple the first night and stick to my practice agenda. Simple is good! 

The other volunteer working with the 5-7 year olds had assembled her group in a neat little circle so I figured I better get started with my group.  I walked over to the group of parents and introduced myself.  I asked them to have their child follow me to the blue mat by the wall so we could get started.  Easy, right?

Have you ever dropped a handful of little bouncy balls on the floor?  Each goes its own way and while you chase one, the others still bounce and roll away.  Gathering up 3 and 4 year olds was kinda like gathering up bouncy balls.  I would get one kiddo where I wanted him and while I went and gathered another, the first wandered off.  I didn’t know any of their names which made it hard and on top of that, Miss-I’ve-Got-My-Group-Under-Control was already doing dribbling drills.  

By the time I had my group sitting in front of me, I was in a lather of sweat.  Thank God only five were there!  I can’t imagine rounding up twelve of them!  We spent some time going over my name, their names and if they ever watched basketball. 

Okay, I can do this!  I now had control and they were eager and ready to learn about basketball.  Because we were already behind on what I had on my agenda, I decided to skip the stretching and go right into dribbling drills.  I handed each one of them a small basketball and before I could even start talking, each one went off in a different direction. 

     One was kicking the ball like a soccer ball,

one was shooting at the Little Tykes hoop,

        one was sitting by her mom eating Pringles,

               one was heading to the group on the other side and

                       one had the boxing gloves on and started hitting the

      punching bag hanging on the wall.  

Man, these kids were quick!!! The only one standing there waiting for instructions from me was my great-niece, who had come in a little late.  I told her to hang there while I gathered up the others.

The next 30 minutes went sorta like this…….

   Please don’t hit!

      Please don’t cry….

         Thank you, I like my earrings too.  Ouch! Don’t pull them, please.  

            Ohhh! Do you need to use the bathroom?  Hurry! Hurry! GO!

                I know there isn’t a purple light on a stop light, we are pretending.

                      Don’t kick the ball, please.

                           He didn’t hit you with the basketball on purpose. 

                               Can you say you are sorry?

                                   Stay over here with us, please.

                                       No, you can’t use the punching bag.

                                              No, I’m not crying, I’m okay……

And at one point when I knelt down to talk to them, three of them were trying to cuddle up and tell me about their day.  

After an hour of working with 3 and 4 year olds, I perfected the art of talking over the loud bouncing basketballs from the other side while chasing a stray preschool kid and bringing him back to the group while nicely removing a finger that was lodged up in a nostril while hugging a kid that looked like he wanted to cry while talking about basketball.  Whew!

The second hour of my night with the 8-11 year old kids was more like I expected.  I didn't have to chase any of them, no one tried to pull out my earring, and they even laughed at a couple of my jokes.

At the end of the night I decided I never wanted to coach another team again.

Instead of coaching these kids, I want them to simply have fun and hopefully plant a seed that could materialize into something meaningful later in life.  Instead of stressing how important it is to make the shot and shoot the ball when open, I want to encourage friendship etiquette. Share the ball, share the shots and encourage them to encourage each other. What I have found over my years of coaching is that more and longer lasting friendships are made on the court than in the classroom.

I want each player to leave with a smile and feel good about himself/herself even if that means I need to take a few minutes and let the 3 and 4 years olds sit on my lap and tell me what they had for lunch.  

The Last Inning Whether I'm Ready or Not.....

Eventually the time comes when you have to call the last strike in the last inning to end the game.  In other words, the time comes for your son's baseball journey to end.  Often times, the decision is a difficult one for your son and quite possibly for you as a parent.  

That's where I am.  Tyler decided not to play baseball at La Roche College anymore.  As hard as this is on me, I can't imagine what he went through to make that decision.  

Like any good parent, I will be supportive but I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't miss the sound of a well thrown pitch hitting the catcher's mitt, the thrill of seeing him strike out a batter, the opportunity to express my discontent with the umpire's ruling.  And what a waste of talent it is that I no longer get to bust out my well-honed infield dirt removal skills.  

Little did I know when I took this picture that it would be his last pitch.......

.....that this would be the last time he walked off the field as a player....

So, I'm sure there is life after being a baseball mom.  I'm certain I can take up a hobby such as yodeling or soap carving but the truth is that I love baseball and I loved watching my son play more than anything in this world. But for now, I'll just pack up my gear, wipe my tears and thank God for giving Tyler the talent to play as long as he did.  

Thank you, Tyler! It's been one helluva ride!  I love you and couldn't be more proud of you than I am right now!