They say the natural order of things has everyone expecting their parents to pass before kids and this helps to ease the pain. If this is the case, I pray I never lose a child.
It has been almost 5 years since my dad died and sometimes I find myself lost in a place where I can't think due to the pain.
I recently had the opportunity to travel back to Texas for work, with a great twist of fate it was opening day for the Astro's. A Ranger Buddy of mine happened to be able to get us some tickets.
We arrived early, the roof was open and the sun brilliantly shone down on the perfectly manicured grass. The air was electric as friends, parents, lovers and children all sported their Astro's colors and anxiously awaited the umpires call of "play ball". Opening day always has been and always will be a day of hope and new beginnings.
As the National Athem played, 4 grown men all with ties to the same unit, rose as one and added to the cacophony that was 45,000 people singing. When it was over, they would of course have a tear in their eye.
The smell of popcorn, buying a bag of peanuts, a cold beer in my hand, there is nothing like opening day.
As the pitchers duel rolled along, I was suddenly overcome, the weight on my shoulders caused me to have to leave my seat.
Since forever, I had shared baseball with my dad. Ironically, he was my step dad, but you will never hear me call him that. He had raised me since I was three, to me he was Dad.
Dad was not a good role model or an example of how to live your life. But he shouldered the responsibility that was me and mother and in that, there is honor.
Growing up, I don't recall wanting for anything. Cars, nice clothes, eating at nice places, money in my pocket, coming to my sporting events, he was there in all those ways. When I rebelled, he paid my bonds, paid for lawyers and tried to keep me on the right path.
When I became a Ranger he beamed with pride and use to brag to all his friends. He was the Rangers biggest fan.
I made my way to club level and found the seats, the exact chairs, he and I had sat in so many times before. As the waves of emotions began to crash over me, I toasted Dad.
With a glass raised up, the tears ran down.
1 comment:
"Dad was not a good role model or an example of how to live your life...but...shouldered the responsibility that was me and mother and in that, there is honor....Growing up, I don't recall wanting for anything...coming to my sporting events, he was there in all those ways. When I rebelled, he paid my bonds, paid for lawyers and tried to keep me on the right path."
It's a good man who sees how complicated parenting is and forgives the sometimes stupidity and makes a choice to focus on the humanity and complexity.
A well-written and eloquent account of a bittersweet game.
The English teacher notes your excellent use of juxtaposition and parallelism in the last line. =)
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