Yesterday is a day I hope to always remember. It was, for the most part, a normal Saturday. We had some work being done in the kitchen, my parents came up for dinner, but other than that nothing much different happened. We were a bit displaced due to the construction in the kitchen so we ate on the back porch. It was a nice change and not too hot. Brooke couldn't cook everything she wanted to but it was a good meal anyway. After the meal and as my parents visit was winding down, we were sitting on the back porch playing with the girls. At some point I asked my Dad if he wanted to "have a catch?"
See throwing a baseball back and forth is probably one of my favorite things I ever did with my Dad. It is one of the favorite things he did with his father. Fact is, fathers and sons all over America spend so many afternoons throwing the baseball back and forth. It is time spent that I have gotten my father in law to appreciate. He understands that it is much more than baseball. Its a time for reflection, its a time for thinking about the future, its a time to bond. I barely played baseball as a kid and my Dad's baseball days are over by 40 some odd years. I was all about football. Fact is, I would probably rather throw a baseball in the backyard than a football. There is something so symbolic about playing catch with my Dad. Back and forth, back and forth. It was one of those things I always envisioned doing with my son when he grew up.
To my surprise when I asked Dad to have a catch he said yes. The times we play catch don't happen as often as the used to or for as long as they used to. When you're a kid you think you have forever to play catch with your father. To the point where the dad probably is sick of throwing the baseball. Then comes a time when the son doesn't want to play much anymore, yet the dad would probably give anything for a Sunday afternoon in the backyard playing catch with his boy. You only hope that the son eventually comes back and plays catch again with his dad as much as they can with the time they have left. How many more times will I play catch with Dad? You think the number is limitless, there are always more afternoons to play catch. But life happens and in reality- there are a limit on the times for Dad and I to have a catch. That is why I want to enjoy it as much as I can.
Well I go to grab my glove and Dad's glove that I have here just in case he ever decides to toss it around with me. As I get up Reagan begs to play with us. At first, I refuse. This moment I was about to have was strictly for me and between my father and I. I didn't want Reagan slowing us down. I could see the disappointment in her eyes when I told her no but at first I felt she just didnt understand. I knew she couldn't throw very well and I was worried about her catching a hard ball. I didn't want her to get hit by a hard baseball, cry, etc. She was not going to play. As I went to the garage to get the gloves I had a change of heart. I'm probably not going to have a son to play catch with so I need to take advantage of the time when my girl wants to. So, I found her pink glove. A first as far as I am concerned for the Ayers family backyard catch tradition. Reagan's face lit up like a Christmas tree when I came out and handed her the glove. She attempted to put the glove on her right hand and I then thought perhaps I had made a mistake. I took a deep breath and put the glove on the proper hand, then three of us ran out into the backyard, taking the field like every home team at every ballpark in America. I was on one end and there was my father on the other end of my backyard. Right next to PawPaw was Reagan, big smile on her face, pink glove in hand. Now my Dad was an excellent pitcher in baseball. Drafted twice to the Majors. Even at 65 years old, just like in basketball, I never worry about his accuracy. I, on the other hand, have been known to break a few fence posts with my Rick "Wild Thing" Vaughn antics. With that in mind, I didn't think it was safest for Reagan to be next to Dad. I knew his throws would be pretty much on target and I can catch, so she would be safest by me. The three of us got into a pretty good rhythm. About every other pitch I would underhand it to Reagan and she would throw it back to me. She only got hit in the head in the once and did a good job playing with us. I think it is possible she enjoyed the catch as much as we did. After a while, Dad's arm was getting tired and I knew the game was coming to an end. Reagan had the line of the night when she looked at me and said, "Dad- my glove is the coolest because it lights up (which it does when a baseball hits the glove)." I told her she was absolutely correct that her glove was the coolest because it lights up. I looked at Dad and said "things I'd never thought I would say while playing catch with my Dad."
It was an amazing night and unfortunately I don't think I can put it words what it means for a father and his son...and the granddaughter, to play catch in my backyard. Like all things in life you must adjust when it throws you a curveball. Reagan taught me a very valuable lesson that I had lost sight of. It's not just about baseball, its about doing something so symbolic with people you love. That is why she so desperatley wanted to play with me. It doesnt matter that she has a pink glove that lights up, it doesnt matter that she will never play in the Majors. Playing catch has very little to do with baseball. Sometimes being able to make that adjustment can make the difference between a good day to a great day, a minor leaguer to a major leaguer, a baseball player to a dictator that outlives every US President (Castro wanted to play in the Majors but couldn't hit a curveball). I'm not sure last night was heaven, but it was pretty damned close.
So while I was gone at Leadership School, Brooke secretly gave Hadley a little piece of a banana just to see if she was interested. See dinner is always interesting, and loud, in our house. Hadley has only added to the "fun." If Hadley is not in your (normally Brooke's) lap during dinner she will sit there and talk, and talk, and talk, until you pick her up. And it really is talking, except it sounds like E.T or probably more like a tauntaun. Every noise she makes sounds like something from The Empire Strikes Back movie. She also talks more than any kid we have and if you have never met my kids, they all talk like mad. So Brooke picks up Hadley tonight in her lap and Hadley is literally watching Brooke put the food on the fork and then following with her eyes and head, as Brooke puts the food in her mouth. I swear I have seen my dogs do that 1000 times when they want people food. What does Hadley then do? No, not slobber like a dog, she starts smacking her lips. Apparently, that is the first sign they are ready to eat. I didn't know there were signs. I just assumed Brooke got tired of whipping her boob out (blog about that later) and so you start supplementing with food. Who knew? I learned something even after 4 kids today. Anywho, after the lip smacking, Brooke decides to smash a pea or two, maybe a carrot- to see how Hadley reacts. She downs it like champ. So, why not go for some real baby food. The next sign is if they spit out the food they aren't ready. Well after a thing of squash and a thing of prunes, we are pretty sure she is ready to eat people food. She ate and ate and ate like it was her job. In Hadley's mind I am sure this was the greatest night of her entire life. It was one of the funnier things we had seen. The "big" girls were interested in the prunes that Hadley was eating so they all tried it as well. So not only did Hadley provide some comic relief, she did so in a healthy way.
Its sort of funny that humans, when grown, are the most evolved species. Yet when we are born we are the most helpless. In a week where one girl goes off to school full time (and doesn't talk much about it when she gets home), we have another who decided it was time to eat. Sort of a cycle I suppose.
P.S. Trinity wins 45-7 over Brentwood Academy in Nashville. Trinity 1- Tennessee 0.
I saw this video this morning and was moved to tears. I couldn't help but think of my Dad. Dad pretty much had one hero his entire life, his father, my PawPaw. They were always so close in every way you want a father and a son to be. When I heard this song, I couldn't help but think of my Dad, alone in a hospital room, holding his father's hand as Cancer finally took PawPaw from us. There was no desire to bring PawPaw back, finally he didnt hurt anymore, finally he was Cancer free. I also thought about Dad outside in a cold waiting room as his wife (my Mom) of so many years went into surgery to remove some Cancer they had found on her. Man, what strength Dad has shown through all of this. Even though the endings were different for each case, did Dad "love them through it" or what?
I thought of Pops too. He had Skin Cancer twice (the real bad kind)...it pushed him to the brink to where he almost gave up. But he fought back to see his kids grow. I didn't know him them but I suspect he was more upset when his wife (Mimi) of so many years was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. He was on his way to my house when they found out. We were all there when they arrived (my parents too) and we just cried together, hugged each other...we loved them through it.
I was really touched by two lines in the video "when your diagnosed with Cancer, everyone around you is diagnosed as well." Also, "all I wanted to do was to live to raise my children." Wow, so true. I think this video is not just a video for the Cancer survivors, those who were the tip of the spear in the Cancer battle. I also think this is a song/video for those people like Dad and Pops who...by the Grace of God, kept things together as their soul mates and their heroes were fighting this disease.
You can't survive in this world alone....you have to love each other through it. Jimmy V, who himself was taken by Cancer, said we should do three things every day.
1) You should laugh every day
2) You should think, spend some time in thought
3) You should have your emotions move you to tears.
If you do this 7 days a week, you are going to have something special. Thanks to all those who never gave up during their battle with Cancer and who are still here today to celebrate another day. Thanks to all those who sat there bedside, on a bench, in a waiting room to support their loved ones. You are an inspiration to us all.
I have made my feelings known about how difficult it is for me to drop my girls off at school. You would think after doing it as much as I have had to do, it wouldn't sting anymore. The truth is, it still does. Every time I watch them walk into their room, I know they need me less and less. They are all getting so big and next Tuesday, Reagan, Carolina, and Baylor Grace will all be in school. I cant believe how fast time flies. Today was Reagan's first day of kindergarten. I remember when I was in kindergarten. Today was her first full day of school. No more picking her up before lunch every day. Every day she would give me whatever sticker she got at school that day. She would smack it on me somewhere. No more of that. No more naps. No more picking out clothes for school. She is a big girl, in her big girl uniform. Now she will come home with her Mommy after school. There is a lot to be thankful for, I get that. A lot to be proud of, I know. That doesn't change the fact that my BFF for the past 5 years is getting a little more independent. I kept thinking over over this morning about the first time I held her in my arms after she was given to us. I could barely see her because of the tears in my eyes. I felt a love then that I have never felt before and that you can't describe in a blog. It doesn't seem like that long ago when I looked at the most beautiful thing ever, who is now going off to her first day of school. I know that seeing her in her Catholic outfit would make her PawPaw proud, and my Granny proud. It was a big deal for Granny to send my Dad to Catholic schools, no matter the cost. Just the same as it was for my father to do for Patrick and I. So in my sadness today, I do feel a sense of satisfaction that Brooke and I can do this for our kids.
I gave Reagan a hug and kiss and fought back the tears. As she sat in her desk ready for the day, ready for her future...I called out one last time. "Bye Reagan, I love you." She looked back and said "bye Daddy Boohoo." She already has me pegged.
For the record I didn't cry....until I got back to the car.
Hello to my blogosphere, sorry for my lack of updates. I have been on a ship sailing the Caribbean for the SAE Leadership School. Caroline would be in heaven here since every where we went they named everything after a pirate. Most of the places had some connection to Blackbeard, her favorite pirate behind Jack Sparrow. None of these stops are as great as they could be because the girls are not here with me, I cannot wait to return to them tomorrow night.
We are pulling up to Key West (hence the Internet connection) but aren't getting off. On to Miami early in the morning (tomorrow) and then a LONG travel day tomorrow. Cant wait to hold all 5 of my girls.
There are moments in time, life, that you will always remember. Those moments sometimes come out of nowhere other times you have enough warning you can "prepare" for them. There are good moments and bad moments. Good moments like when you graduate, when you get married, or the birth of your children. No matter how much you prepare or say you will be ready for it, it hits you like a ton of bricks. When those church doors open and you see your wife down the isle, or when you hold that precious life in your hands for the first time...its an amazing moment. You wait 9 months for the baby to come and you get the crib/baby room together, car seat, etc. You are ready. But then you hold the baby for the first time and it hits you. Those moments stick with you forever.
There are moments that stick with you in the opposite way as well. That moment when you realize you are old, the moment when the doctor says the word Cancer, or the moment when you say goodbye to a loved one for the last time. All those moments stop you in time and stick with you, forever.
There are subtle moments too, sometime less dramatic but important in their own way. Moments like the first time your kid goes on a play date and you drop them off without you. The first Christmas when Santa is just a pop icon and not a real guy. Or that moment when you son or daughter brings home a mate and it is obvious that they are "the one." We had one of those moments two nights ago. A moment we knew was coming, we even looked forward to the day it would come.....but when it gets here you are sort of sad.
Brooke and I call Hadley our roommate. Since she was born every night she has slept next to our bed. Every night when Hadley rings the dinner bell Brooke rolls over and feeds the baby. Some nights the baby goes back into her bed, others she cuddles with her Mom- in her Mom's protective arms. When they are little babies like that is the only time we let them sleep in our bed. So its special in its own way. We always joke about eventually evicting them back to their room. Since Hadley has been born, she has probably spent more nights our room than I have. The other night I walked upstairs to go to bed and I heard the air cleaner (noisemaker) on in Hadley's actual room. I went to lay down and realized Brooke was in a very relaxed position, sprawled out on her stomach in bed. Reason being, Hadley was sleeping in her own bedroom for the first time.....we no longer had our roommate. Brooke would still have to get up a few times a night and feed her but she is getting to the age where after she eats she goes back to bed. It is getting to the point where there is no reason to have her sleep right next to our bed anymore. As I got in bed, the silence was deafening. I couldn't help but be a little sad. Brooke and I talked about how much we wanted to be able to watch TV again, have our room back to ourselves and it was finally here. To be honest, I couldnt sleep because all the nights shared with a baby, starting with Reagan, replayed in my head. We have done this four times and now it seems that they are all big girls and needing us less and less. I dont think Hadley made it through the first night in her own bed/room. But the past few nights she at least starts the night by sleeping in her bed, on her back, by herself.
We wanted this moment to come, we longed for it, and it is here. It is for the best and it means things are progressing like they should but I cant help be be a little sad and miss the grunts, the toots, and the 3 am blowouts. However, the loss of those baby noises is replaced by the deep sleep of my wife. So that is a good trade off.
