The good news? I didn't have much time to think about what I had lost. To grieve, really. The bad news? I didn't have much time to think about what I had lost. To grieve, really.
Now, I have the time. And it hurts. But I'm dealing with it - stoically, I think, as my mom probably would. I don't talk about it to others, as much. When I'm asked how I'm doing, like I was when I had coffee with an old friend yesterday, I smile and say, "I'm all right," then quickly change the subject or steer the conversation in a different direction.
The heart always heals.
So, last night, we had our first baseball practice for the Dodgers, J.P.'s 11 - 12 year old WNSL baseball team. We've added a few new boys to our roster this spring, so I'm actually running two teams with 19 total boys. It will be a challenge but one that I'm really looking forward to, for sure.
I'll also be coaching the Junior Dodgers, Joe's 7 - 8 year old WNSL team. Their first practice is this weekend.
I needed last night, at practice, in a big, big way. Shaking hands and introducing myself to the new dads last night before practice - as they leaned on the fence down the right field line; introducing myself to the group and having each boy tell me and our coaches his name and favorite baseball team, as at the boys stood in a circle around me; talking quietly to my assistant coaches; joking with the boys during practice; hitting infield to the boys; throwing with Joe; and hoping into a drill and sprinting to first base with a stopwatch on me as the boys cheered.
All of those things, and more, helped restore a sense of normalcy to my life that had been missing. Yes, my mom's gone and that makes me terribly sad. I miss her every day. I ache for what has been lost. But, still, it's baseball season. And last night, for a little more than an hour, I found myself back where I belong - on a baseball field in the waning light of an early spring evening, coaching a bunch of 10, 11 and 12 year old boys.
I smiled the whole time.
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