How Did We Get Here So Fast?

How Did We Get Here So Fast?

June 6, 2014....only 10 days from now. 

That can’t be!

There has to be a mistake! 

I swear, Tyler, it feels like only last week that I brought you home from the hospital. You were my tiny little 10 pound, 22 inch bundle of joy.  Okay, tiny and little were never used to describe you.  You were nicknamed “man-mountain Booher” from the start!   I remember looking at you for the first time and thinking that I wanted time to stand still.  I wanted you to stay wrapped up in a blanket in my arms.  I wanted to protect you and keep you from the big, bad world. Nothing I have ever done has given me more joy and rewards than being a mother to you!  The day I found out you were going to be born was the happiest and scariest moment of my life.  No manual is given on how to raise a child, but I was going to do everything I could for you.  I think I have done almost everything possible for you, even to a fault at times, but I don’t believe I would change a thing.  I'm not quite sure how 17 years literally flew by but it did.  And here we are...10 days away from your high school graduation. 

I read somewhere that when your child reaches his senior year in high school, he becomes, at times, hard to live with. The article stated that the teenager is trying to separate himself and to assert his independence.  Supposedly this transition makes going off to college easier on the parents!  This is a true statement to some degree!  You did become hard to live with at times but I don’t care what that article said, it will not make the transition easier on me!

I know all the things I’m supposed to say and all the things I’m supposed to do and not do, but it’s easier said than done.  Please know that I am so happy for you and I'm so excited for this new chapter in your life!  My brain knows this but my heart feels something different. 

In my head I know that this is the next natural step in life.  You are going to grow on many levels.  In my head I know that you are going to have challenges and there will be decisions you are going to have to make on your own and this is a part of growing up.  In my head I know that you will probably fall on your face a few times and have to get up and figure it out on your own and that this too, is part of life. 

My heart tells it differently…

Every morning when you leave for school, I know it’s one day closer to graduation day and another day closer to college.  I want time to slow down….way down.

I wanted to cherish every last event of your senior year…homecoming, prom, baseball game…and your last golf match! I felt that I needed just “one more picture” of you doing whatever it was you were doing.  I wanted, no needed, to document it all.  I appreciate that you didn’t get too mad at me.  But you need to know that this will continue throughout the summer so if I ask for just “one more picture”, please understand.   I'm savoring the moment and I want to be able to look at the pictures over and over.  Some day we will sit together with your children and tell stories about your senior year.  Some day you might even thank me for taking just “one more picture”. 

I know that you are starting to get excited about leaving for college.  I watched your face when we went to La Roche to watch their championship game.  I knew what you were going to say before you said it to me.  My brain was jumping for joy in my head while I watched you.  My heart, well, it was breaking.  When you turned to me and said, “I want this.  I’m ready”, I knew it too.

Your senior year has been a very emotional time for me. I’m not kidding when I say ‘I’m full of emotion”! It’s not always sadness that I’m feeling.  I feel an abundant amount of pride with all that you have accomplished.  I feel joy and happiness for you.  I sometimes feel overwhelmed with all we still need to do.  I feel nostalgic.  I spent a lot of time looking through old photos and papers.   I’ve sat on your bed and just looked around your room, at your pictures, trophies, even your messy dresser.  And sometimes I feel plain ole lonely.  You are the center of my world…my focus, my happiness.  That won‘t change, but it will definitely be different.  

It’s a good thing I have a large brain!  If my heart had its way, I’d hug you every time you walked past me!  Lucky for you, my brain overruled my heart!  You’ve lived here for 17 years.  In that time, it was my job to raise you, take care of you and even prepare you for the day you will leave.  Unfortunately, while I've been busy preparing you for this time, I've forgot to prepare myself.  But I honestly don’t think anything could prepare me.

I’ve cried a lot this year….with more tears to come.  Please don't take this as all bad.  The tears are a mixture of happiness and sadness.   I am so incredibly sad that I blinked and you grew into the man you are and will be heading off to college but I’m extremely proud of that young man that grew during that blink of an eye. 

Remember the things you were taught when you are faced with challenges because there will be bigger ones in college. High school drama was, well, just that, drama.   Remember your morals, your values and your integrity.  Hold onto those.  Remember that you ALWAYS have a choice. Take responsibility for your choices.   Pray.  Don't blame others. Pray.  Look past the moment.   Be a leader.  Be a friend.  Study.  Study some more. 

I can’t preach this enough…..what you post on the Internet will be there forever.  Repeat after me: social media isn’t always my friend!  Make wise choices.  Think before you type or post a picture.  Ask yourself, "Do I want this showing up in a few years?"  "How do I want others to perceive me?"  "Do I want a potential employer to see this?" "Would I want grandpa to see this?"  Think before you post!  Someday you will thank me, I promise!

There are so many things I could write about you, but I just want you to never ever doubt how much joy you have given me and how much I love you.  You are a priority over all the demands that life throws at us; you are the most important investment I have ever made in my life.  I look forward to finding out where your life journey will lead. Okay, maybe I’m not looking forward to that right at this minute, but someday I will!

I am so proud of the man you have become and being your mom.  Go chase your dreams and never let anyone say you can’t accomplish what you set your mind to.  Find your passion, keep looking and searching, never stop.  I am so excited for you and whatever future endeavors you do.

Most of all, Tyler, have fun and enjoy these years.  They will go fast.  Make the most of it.  You will make lifelong friends during your college years.  You will have some amazing opportunities come your way.  Enjoy them!  Take advantage of them! 

And just think, in four years when you are ready to graduate from college, I will be become full of emotion again!     

Keep Calm, Summer is Coming

It’s that time of year when kids start counting down the number of days of school….Or how many more times they have to wake up….Or how many Mondays they have left.  It’s also that time of year when teachers start seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.  

It’s almost time for the start of Summer break!  

This time of year always brings back memories of my summer breaks. I usually find myself reminiscing about my mostly unchaperoned, dysfunctional up-bringing. Back in the day, summer break was a time for a more chill, carefree time–where kids play outdoors, unsupervised from sun up to sundown.  

I didn't have a cell phone. I didn't have texting.  I didn't have a computer or IPad.  I didn't have Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest or anything that resembled social media. But you know what? I survived. I was happy with what I had, with no sense of entitlement. 

Summertime when I was a kid was a time of discovery and exploration. It wasn't a time to stay indoors. My sisters and I were wise enough to know to get out of the house quick in the morning in order to avoid a long To-Do list of unpleasant chores, parents who believed in spanking, yelled, and knew how to say ‘No’.


My main mode of transportation was my bike. I loved riding my bike.  No helmets were required back then! I remember how cool I thought I was when I rode down the hill with no hands on the handlebars!  I rode my bike even when there was no place to go.  I would just ride around the block again and again.  No doubt I was either talking to myself or singing absentmindedly as I rode along….maybe even doing the letters above my head to “YMCA” while singing and trying to not fall off my bike.  Or maybe I was concocting some type of adventure in my head where I was chasing bank robbers!  

There were a number of families with kids in the neighborhood I grew up in. We would hit one back yard after another, where we’d create elaborate imaginative games. Swings would be our air crafts to the moon or we’d be Olympic gymnasts all trying to win the gold medal.  I never won the gold.  My legs were never straight when I did my handstand.  Plus, I always lost points when I’d forget to tuck my t-shirt in and it would show my girl parts when I did my cartwheel. I guess Olympic gymnasts aren't supposed to be chubby.  

We’d play whiffle ball or kickball for hours. We’d climb trees, jump rope, or take turns with the lemon skip it.  I loved twirling my baton.  Not a real one. You know, the big fat ones that would bend if it was dropped one too many times!  

If it was a game day, I had to throw 100 pitches in a bucket before lunch.  Because my sisters wanted me to be the best pitcher ever, they would count to make sure I didn't cheat myself out of even one pitch!  Because that would be cheating myself and I would never be the best pitcher if I did that.  Little brats!  They were there to tattle if I only threw 99! 

Lunch at my house primarily consisted of peanut butter and jelly or bologna sandwiches.  If my sisters and I were lucky, we’d get a Hostess snack cake. White Wonder bread was pretty much guaranteed. The fresher the bread, the better!  I loved sneaking a piece of bread, tearing off the crust, and then rolling the bread in the palm of my hands until it was nothing but a dough ball! Lemonade or Kool-Aid was our thirst quenching options.  And if we didn't like it, there was always water, from the kitchen sink.  

As soon as I finished lunch, I’d head back outside.   Possibly pretending to “drive my car” (my bike). Or maybe just sit in the shade and try to make funny noises by blowing on a blade of grass firmly pressed between my two thumbs. When I was a little older, I’d lay in the sun and attempt to get a tan. We didn't have a pool so I’d throw an old blanket on the grass where I thought there would be the least amount of bees.  I’d coat myself with baby oil and lay there for what seemed like hours.  When I’d get hot, I’d turn on the hose and squirt off…rinsing the sweat, baby oil and little bugs that got stuck in it off my red skin.  Then I would oil up and do it again.

When it was really hot, we were allowed to turn the hose on and squirt each other.  We found ways to make different games out of it.  I remember turning the back yard into a mud pit.  More than once we made a slip-n-slide with mud.  Who needed a pool when you have a yard and a hose?

After 8-10 hours of being accountable to no one, the neighborhood kids would start to wander back to their own yards. Bikes were parked for the night and jump ropes were put away.  Eventually you’d hear mothers yell out the front door, “dinner time” and one by one, the yards became empty.  Dirty, sweaty kids headed in to eat whatever mom had cooked.  

Sometimes when it got dark, I’d head outside to catch lightning bugs. But mainly the evenings were spent inside.  Family time was spent watching whatever popular prime time show was on.  Maybe it was a ‘Three’s Company’ night or ‘Solid Gold’ night.  I hadn't watched TV all day so TV time was a treat.   Or maybe if nothing good was on, I’d get to play “Frogger” on the Atari if my sisters weren't hogging it.  If nothing else, I would pull out a deck of cards and play game after game of Solitaire.  After I got a bath and before bed, I could have a snack….a Popsicle, or maybe an apple or maybe saltines with peanut butter.  Friday nights were special nights though; my sisters and I were allowed to have a bowl of potato chips and one glass of RC Cola.  

Sleep came easy after a full day of fun, sun and adventure.  

And the next day, I’d get up and do it all again. A new day meant a new adventure….the unknown. Anything was possible…

Crying in Baseball?

Crying in baseball?

(This is a Facebook post I made in December 2013)

A little over 6 years ago a routine doctor visit turned into one I'll never forget. I sat in the doctor's office watching him as he read over a couple test results. "I heard the doctor say, 'I'm sorry, Kimberly, the test results show that you have cancer.' I heard nothing else. My mind went blank, and then I kept thinking, 'No, there must be some mistake.'" But I knew there was no mistake, it was real. My first instinct was to 'man up and deal with it'. With a business-like tone, I started asking questions....what are you going to do? How soon? And let's get this out of me as soon as possible.

After the appointment I sat in my car just staring at the steering wheel, knowing I had to tell my family. Then it hit me.....Tyler. My thoughts turned to him, my budding, young baseball player with God-given talent. 'What if I never get to see him play another game"? And then I lost it. I don't know how long I sat in my car sobbing--ignoring my ringing cell phone. Telling someone would make this nightmare real but eventually I made my first call. When I hung up the phone, I told myself, 'it will all work out". I decided not to tell Tyler right away. He had lost his grandmother a couple years prior to cancer and was still having issues with sleeping and anxiety.

That little boy became my rock....I clung to everything he did, especially baseball. I already knew a lot about baseball but I wanted to know more. I learned the game inside and out and Tyler and I talked endlessly about it. I watched every game, every inning, and every pitch. At the end of each game, I thanked The Lord above for giving me another opportunity to watch him play.

When he was 12, he switched travel teams. At one of the first tournaments, our team was in a stressful situation. We were up one run, bottom of 7th, bases loaded and 1 out. The coach called timeout and walked to the mound. He looked over at first base and nodded to Tyler. Tyler was going in to pitch. My heart was pounding and I wanted to vomit! Tyler never flinched and did his job with confidence and ease. After the final out, knowing he pulled it off, he looked at me with the biggest smile I've ever seen on that kid's face. It was then that I knew things were going to be alright---with baseball and life. Tears rolled down my face as I watched my son celebrate with his team. One of the coaches said to me as he walked past, "Hey, there's no crying in baseball".

Maybe, maybe not.....

To this day, I still thank God after every game and I still have not missed a single pitch Tyler has thrown.

As for crying in baseball, well, I'm a firm believer that as long as I'm wearing water-proof mascara, I can cry all I want!

Spring is in the air and so is Senioritis

It happens every year.

     Juniors begin their year wondering if they’ll catch it next...

          Seniors battle it from the start of their year until the end of the year activities 

               such as prom

                    final exams

                         and senior hook-out day.

All signs showing that graduation is within sight.

Senioritis.

Senioritis is the horrible disease that strikes high school seniors.  Symptoms include: laziness, an over-excessive wearing of sweats and sweatshirts, lack of studying, and a dismissive attitude.  The only known cure is the occurrence of graduation.

As a student and then later as a teacher, I never really took ‘senioritis’ seriously. I considered it something people talked about and made to be a huge nightmare….An excuse for the behavior of some seniors who could not control themselves. In reality, being a senior was just the same as being a junior, sophomore, or freshman. Right?

Wrong! I don’t say this very often…..

I was wrong!

As a parent of a senior who is nearly done with his final year of high school, I can tell you that senioritis truly does occur.   It is a state of mind for teens: they are so, so close to being done with high school that they can almost taste the crappy college cafeteria food. A change starts happening once they finish applying to colleges and receive a few acceptance letters.  I’m sure a few even wonder why they even have to finish the year. After all, they know their plan and they know what field of study they are going to go into. Even students that are “Undecided” about their future plans know that high school is done helping them.

I noticed gradual changes in Tyler throughout the year.  All were sure signs of senioritis. He seemed to be in a constant battle between “I don’t want to fail” and “I don’t care enough to do anything.” 

Tyler started his senior year full of excitement.  He had been recruited to play baseball at La Roche College, most of his senior portfolio was complete and well, he was a senior.  That excitement was replaced by complacency. He went through a period in which he was kinda “blah”.  He didn't dislike high school, but he was starting to look forward to college. It was a limbo-like stage.  By late winter, Tyler loathed school, his teachers, and his classes. He was unmotivated and angry.

It wasn't until baseball season started that I saw another change in Tyler.  He would come home from practice and go on and on about how much he enjoyed the younger players.  He was amazed at how much they liked him.  It’s not that Tyler isn't likable, but for some reason this seemed different to him.  Almost as if these boys looked up to him.  That is when I think Tyler realized he could be a leader.  Overnight he went from idolizing other high school baseball players to becoming a leader of the team. 

As I watched this transformation occur throughout the year, I came to a conclusion about Tyler’s senioritis.  Tyler realized that he was growing up. I don’t mean that he ran around and saying things like, “Hey, I’m a big boy now!” or “Look at me! I’m all grown up!” But his focus changed.  He had a lot going on and I saw him starting to focus on life in the real world, not the world of high school.  After his last high school baseball game and the prom, it was evident that Tyler was at the point where he doesn't fit in with the rest of the high school anymore. 

He is ready to move onto bigger and better things and I’m sure he can’t wait to get started. But school isn't over yet, he still has to graduate!  I preach to him weekly….ummm, okay, probably daily, that I expect him to maintain good grades and that everything counts up until the very end.  Staying focused the last couple weeks isn't going to be easy for any student.  Heck, I know teachers who are starting to lose focus too!  This impatience is amplified even further when seniors don’t see the point in it anymore. I’m sure Tyler is wrestling with finishing his high school career strong and being tired of focusing on high school. That’s why this horrid disease, Senioritis, can be tricky.  While it’s a sign of growing up and focusing on life outside of high school, it can also be an excuse to slack off senior year. The key is finding a balance. 

Tyler has been trained to run in a hamster wheel for 13 years, churning out A's and B’s while maintaining his athleticism from Kindergarten to his senior year.  I forced him into believing that every school assignment determined his future.  And when his Senior year finally hit, instead of coasting by taking wood shop and 3 study halls, he was studying and trying to raise his GPA just a little more. Why?  Because I told him that he should. 

But will a little spring slacking hurt him? Of course it won’t hurt him.  What I discovered is that it actually helped him.  Instead of hovering and nagging about getting assignments done and studying for tests, I let him go.  I let him determine when to study or when to start working on projects.  This wasn't easy for me!  For the first time in years, I eased off the reins a bit.  After all, this is his last year of high school…..actually, the last couple weeks of high school (sniff…sniff).  He has a scary few years ahead of him in college, and then a lifelong career afterward. 

So, what is the cure for this nasty disease?  We all know there is only one remedy to this ailment that so many seniors suffer from. On the night of Commencement, the misery will trickle out of their ears the moment they turn their tassels. The freedom caps, also known graduation caps, will simulate applause as they are thrown into the air with joy, and the removal of the illness will be evident among all of the newly graduated students. 

Congratulations to the graduates of 2014!

. 

Hey! I'm still hot....it just comes in flashes now!

I recently had a birthday.  Birthdays, like yearly mammograms, unavoidably fall into the “good-news/bad-news” classification. The good news about having a birthday is that I’m not dead. The bad news about having a birthday is that I’m another year older, which if you look on the bright side circles back around to that “not-being-dead” thing. 

It seems like I am always the oldest in whatever group I happen to be around.   To be honest, it’s never really bothered me.  When I reached a milestone birthday a few years ago, I had no interest in lying about my age, so I freely gave it when asked. No one batted an eye at the number I threw out, and all was good. But as I got a little older I started getting responses to my age like, “Wow, you look great.” At first I thought this was due to my snazzy sense of style.

….Or the pleasant mojo being in my presence brought.   

….Or the fact that I was actually having a good hair day.

….Or that the person was partially blind.

Eventually, however, I realized the meaning behind these words of praise once people started adding “…for your age” to the end of their sentences.

“You look good for your age.”

Really? Compared to what? The back end of a hippopotamus?

…A well-oiled baseball mitt?

…Steven Tyler on a good day?

Maybe I need to change up my snazzy style and aim for a more, I don’t know, maybe more of a sexy look.  What do you think?  Get rid of the granny panties, shop more at Victoria Secrets? Quit buying for comfort and start looking for lace, satin and some strong underwire? 

…Seriously?  

…I don’t think so.

…..I just don’t do ‘sexy’.

We’re not all Marilyn Monroe or Jennifer Lopez and it’s hard to just whip up sexiness if it’s not part of who you are. Personally, I have always felt completely ridiculous in sexy lingerie; rather like some bad hooker.

As I inch closer to my next milestone birthday, I've been thinking about this getting “older” business. 

First of all, birthdays come way too fast.  I know, I know!  That’s such a cliché, right? But I swear I just turned 30 about 2 years ago. Which means in another 4 years: I'll be 90. Yikes!  If any of you know a smarty-pants scientist, could you ask him/her to start working on slowing down time? Surely there must be some sensible application for their string theories and black holes and quarks and whatnot. Possibly he/she could spend a little less time developing apocalyptic video games and coming up with new flavors of vitamin water, and a little more time figuring out how to slow time down.  Please?

Recently, I was out having dinner with friends, laughing and feeling all social and happy. After using the restroom, while washing my hands, I glanced in the mirror to make sure I didn't have any lettuce stuck in my teeth or ranch dressing on the front of my shirt.  But the lighting must have been coming from some weird, wrong direction, casting creepy shadows because what I saw was the reflection of a hundred year old woman with my hairstyle and clothing.

Whoa! Who is that woman, I thought.  Oh wait, that's ME! Not the fresh-faced 30-year old version of me that lives only in my head and my old photo albums. Nope, it's actually me complete with crows feet, frown lines, and those oh-so-special jowls that I inherited from my grandmother.  Sigh….

For those of you who have the smarty-pants scientist friend, could you ask him/her for another favor?  If it's going to take long to figure out how to slow time down, could you ask the brainiac if at least he/she could give me a pill that eliminates wrinkles? Please and thanks!

I've noticed that with this aging process that my memory is crap.  As I may have mentioned before

…about a thousand times. 

Post-it notes have become a means of survival for me!  I use them at work and at home.  The problem is they sometimes end up in random places such as my purse

            …or stuck to my shoe

                        ….or tucked in a book

                                    ….or in the fridge

And then I have to try and remember what it was for.

You know what, though?  Even though I’m only a couple years away from my next humongous milestone, I feel great.  Seriously! I have more energy, less anxiety, a stronger immune system, and less trouble maintaining a healthy weight than I ever had before.  Okay, that last one is a lie but that’s a blog for a different day.  I rarely get sick, have a ton of fun, have awesome friends, and I'm pretty darn content with my life. Guaranteed now that I said that, I'll head into menopause and it will all go straight down the toilet--but for now at least, all is good.

You all know how the saying goes, with age comes wisdom.  Well, “wisdom" may be a little zealous but there are a number of things you get smarter about as you get older. In fact, there's a book I've been meaning to read, "The Secret Life of the Grown-up Brain: The Surprising Talents of the Middle-Aged Mind," but, well, I keep forgetting to download it to my Kindle.

I guess memory isn't one of those surprising middle-aged talents.

It seems like what I lost in the memory department, I may have gained in general smarts. At least, when I think back to some of the dumb-ass things I did when I was younger, I hope I'm getting smarter.

I have noticed recently that the road ahead looks less crappy than what I thought it would look like.  When I was younger, I always felt one of the major drawbacks of getting older was that life would start to accelerate in a downhill direction soon after you reach a certain age.  Now I have friends who are in their 50's, 60's, and 70's who are still kicking butt and having a blast.

So how old did I actually turn on this last birthday? Well, Oscar Wilde once remarked, “Never trust a woman who reveals her true age.” That said, I’ll tell you…I’m an energetic 102 years old.

Since that pretty much makes me equivalent to a fossil, then I suppose I would have to agree that yes, even though I just turned another year older, I do look pretty damn good…

                ........period.

Final Pitch

This has been the week from-you-know-where!  But anyone who knows me well knew it would be.  The tears were and are ready to flow at any given moment.  I’d love to be able to control these overwhelming feelings that consume me, but I can’t.  They simply take over and control me. This week is full of too many lasts. 

…last week of baseball season

…last time Tyler will pitch wearing a Wild Cat uniform
               …last high school baseball game for Tyler

Going into the week we weren’t sure if this was actually going to be the last week of high school baseball for Shenango.  The team was coming off a huge win over Riverside which kept them alive for the third playoff spot in their section.  Tyler knew every scenario that would put them in the playoffs.  He knew that it primarily came down to us winning our last 2 games and Riverside or Beaver losing at least one.  I always hate relying on another team to lose.  It never works out the way you want it to. 

                        ....Why would this time be any different?

                                    .....Why would it actually work out in our favor?

This team worked hard this season to prove people wrong.  They battled against junk ball pitchers, annoying, chanting teams, nearly blind umpires and the weather.  Not only that, but the natives started getting restless ¾ of the way into the season and the grumbling started amongst the fans. 

I knew Tyler would pitch Monday night.  As always I was excited to know he was pitching.  On Monday morning after I packed his lunch, I sat down and wrote my #brownbag words of wisdom for his lunch.  I sat and just stared at the notecard for what felt like an eternity.

                        This is the last one that I will ever write……

The words just swirled in my brain.  I had so many things to say, so many words of wisdom and only one small notecard. I kept saying to myself, “Self, this is it.  This is the last time you will watch your son take the mound as a high school baseball player.  Today you will watch his final pitch as a high school baseball player.  Today is his final pitch on Chuck Tanner Field.”

It took me three tries to finally write one that wasn’t tear stained……

                        Today is your last day pitching on Chuck Tanner Baseball Field.

                        Words cannot express the amount of pride I have :)

                        Make today your best! 
                        Remember: don’t take hitters for granted, 
                        move the ball around, mix it up, keep it low…

                        Most of all….Have some fun :)

                        Xoxo Mom

I was so busy at work that I cried only when I mentioned to Denise that I had to leave at 3ish because Tyler had a game…

            …at Shenango

                        …..and he was pitching

                                     ….for the last time as a Wild Cat

She gets me, though.  She no longer looks at me with that “please don’t cry again” look.  Denise is actually the one who pushed me out the door at 3:15 and reminded me that my work could wait until the next day.  She also said to drive carefully and that my white Caddy didn’t need to be going 90 down Rt. 108.  Silly girl….

…I drive the speed limit

                                    ….unless I might miss the first pitch

                                                ….or get a call that Tyler doesn’t feel well

Jason called on my drive to the game and said Tyler wasn’t feeling well.  After asking a million-thousand questions that he could not answer, I started to feel some anxiety.  Did he have the flu?  Was it his allergies? Was he nervous?  Was he still playing? Pitching?  Could my Caddy go faster?  Why didn’t I leave sooner?

He played.  He pitched.  They won. They battled their usual elements…the rain…a chanting, annoying team…half blind umpires.  I was there with my face pressed against the fence, Jason was there, Briana was there, my mom was there, Colette, Pam, Chris and Dylon were there, an old friend of ours was there, and his grandparents were there, in spirit, in his heart. 

We all watched from the first pitch of his last game pitching to the last pitch of his last game pitching that led to the last out. 

                        ….his final pitch

I turned to Colette after the game and said, “That’s it.  Is it okay to cry now?”  My cute little friend, who knows very little about baseball, watched the entire game in the rain with me. She looked at me with tears in her eyes, “Yep, you can cry now.” 

                      ......and I did

In the end, the win didn't matter.  They didn't get in.  Shenango didn't make the playoffs.  My heart still  aches for the nine seniors.

The boys have one more game left.  Senior recognition night….tomorrow night.  It is the first ever senior recognition for the baseball team.  For Tyler and a couple others, it is the only senior recognition they will have.  I felt they deserved it.  So I asked for it and permission was granted.  My emotions will continue to be on overload.  It will be tough to stand on the field with my arm entwined with his and not visualize his first tee ball game when he was four...

                                     ….the first time he hit a home run

                                                 …the first game he pitched

                                                            ….playing catch in the yard

                                                                          …the first varsity game he pitched

During each of those moments I was so full of pride that I thought I would burst.  Standing on that field tomorrow with Tyler, the amount of pride that I will feel with surpass all those moments added together. Pride mixed with sadness mixed with anxiety.  But it is time for him to move on.  

It’s time to say good bye to high school baseball. 

Good byes are always so full of sadness. 

Instead let’s say it is time to say hello. 

Hello to a new adventure. 

            Hello La Roche baseball.