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A failed blog and a forgotten story...

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MisterT

Well-known member
Mar 7, 2011
2,609
36
Virginia
Fair warning - this is a long post.

My wife called me earlier today and told me that our oldest, now a freshman at James Madison University, needed a thumb drive for his computer. Being sensible, I suggested he go buy one. "No" she said, "grab one of your old ones and give it to him when we see him this weekend". OK, whatever.

So, I looked around and found an old USB thumb drive for him. Of course, I needed to see if there were any files on there first. And, it turns out, there was one file on there...

Back in 2012 I had the great idea to start a blog about life, family and baseball. As it turned out, I think I wrote only one story for that blog. I did upload it, so it is up there on the net somewhere, but I quickly forgot about it. I had forgotten most of the details of this story too. If you read it through, and you have been on here for a while, you will probably be able to tell who the "friend" is that I talk about. I'll leave it to him for if he wants to identify himself.

Man, I love this story. It was a great day. Almost great enough to make me want to start a blog again. Almost.

Anyway, here is the blog I wrote back in 2012 about life, family, and baseball.

___________________________________

I knew when I started writing this blog that I was not really writing about baseball. For me, baseball is somehow both a metaphor for life and an actual real thing that brings me closer to people. But, I knew from the beginning that this blog would really be about family. So, it stands to reason that I should not have been surprised when a day that was supposed to be about baseball turned into a day about families. And yet, somehow I was.

I am a fairly active member of an on line baseball card collecting community. Through my involvement in that I have had the good fortune to actually meet some of the members in real life. It was extremely good fortune when one of my fellow members offered me a ticket to the first home playoff game in the Washington Nationals franchise history. I was beyond thrilled…at least until I realized that I was supposed to be in Orlando, FL that day. To make matters worse, the game was scheduled to start at 1PM on Wednesday, October 10th.

But this was going to be Nationals’ history and I would not be deterred. I changed my flight to the earliest possible flight that day (back to Richmond, VA where my car was) so that I could try and make it to the game. I left my hotel in Orlando just after 4AM and took a cab to the airport. I explained to the gentleman checking me in my desire to carry on my bags on to the plane and to have a seat that would allow me to get off of the plane as quickly as possible. He gave me the first seat after first class, and preferred boarding, on both my flights…I took that as a sign that it was going to be a good day.

My first flight was from Orlando to Atlanta and I was really looking forward to getting a little sleep. Unfortunately the young woman sitting next to me wanted to talk…she wanted to talk a lot. She told me where she was going, she told me what she would do there, she told me where she was from, she told me about her hobbies (mostly Nascar) but mostly she told me about her son. I am guessing that she was only about 18 or 19. She was a single mom who had never spent a night without her 18 month old son. She told me stories about her son. She told me how hard it is for her to raise the boy on her own. She told me how committed she is to him (that was clear). And, she told me how she was already missing him. I remember thinking as we parted ways and walked off the plane how lucky her son is to have her. That was not so bad…after all, I thought, I could sleep on the next flight.

My next flight, from Atlanta to Richmond, was packed but as the airplane door was about to close the seats next to me and across the aisle from me were still open. Of course, at the last second one more person boarded the plane. It was a woman…a HUGE woman. She limped down the aisle carrying three bags and a baby boy. She flopped into the seat across the aisle and dropped the contents of at least one bag all over the floor. I picked up the sippy cups, snacks, diapers and other items on the floor and resigned myself to the fact that I would not sleep on this flight either. Ultimately I switched seats with her so she could have two open seats…and we began to talk. She was a 70+ grandmother from Trinidad who now lives in Richmond.

The baby, I learned, was her grand-nephew. Her four children were all grown and each had a family of their own – and in her words, they “had everything in the world.” The baby she was carrying on the plane was the 8th child of her troubled niece. Her niece was addicted to crack and a lifelong criminal. The baby – who was turning one later that week – was severely addicted to crack when he was born. His 7 older siblings were taken by the state and were “gone.” She said she could not stand to lose another child and petitioned the court to for custody of this boy. Interestingly, the boy’s dad was helping her (did not want custody, but wanted to be a part of his life). She was clearly tired, more tired than me. But, for the entire flight (when she was not telling me about her family) she sang to the boy. She sang Barney songs, she sang her “A, B, C’s” and she sang songs I did not know. After each song she kissed the boy and told him he loved him. Her story was terrible; his early life was tragic. And, he was such a lucky boy. She was old, tired and terribly overweight…but she was so strong, so inspiring and so loving. I really wanted to get to the game, but I actually would have enjoyed more time on that flight.

When the plane finally landed in Richmond I dashed to my card and drove as quickly as I could toward Washington. As I got closer they announced that the parking lots around the stadium were full so I parked in Pentagon City and took the Metro to the game. After a cab, two flights, a two hour drive and a few stops on the Metro, I made it into the stadium before the third out…but I had those two families on my mind the whole time.

The game, as it turned out, was pretty bad. The Nationals got creamed. But, the day, the atmosphere and everything but the baseball was great…especially the people I went with. My friend had bought 4 tickets…one for himself, one each for his girlfriend and her 10 year old son and one for me. He and his girlfriend had each been married before…their relationships had not worked out, but now they had found each other. On the way out of the game he pulled me away from the crowd and told me that he was going to propose to her that weekend.

On the way home I could not help but think about the different families I met that day. The single mom, the grandaunt stepping in (with the dad) to raise the boy and my friend’s newly blended family. Because the game ended early my kids had stayed awake to see me before going to bed. I don’t recall anything special when I got home…probably just the usual chaos of homework and going to bed. But, it was the fourth of four very different families for me on that day. One was not better than the other…they are all very different and somehow all the same in the most basic and important ways…how we care for and love each other.

Just like I had hoped…it was a great day for baseball.
 

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