Being There, Creating Memories: Reflecting on Then and Now and How far I've Come

On Tuesday, I was able to go watch my oldest nephew and young cousin play T-ball. Getting out for an hour may not seem like much to you. In fact, things like this may seem like a chore at times. You see it at as something you have to do and not as a privilege.

Not me. As I wheeled up to the bleachers and the sun beat down on my face, I was grateful. Several years ago, I couldn't do much of anything. I was bedridden, unable to do anything and trips "just because" were impossible. I was in too much pain.

I remember when I could only stay at church for thirty minutes. It took my mom longer to drive to church than it did for me to sit there. But at least it was something. It was the start of me coming back into the land of the living. 

I watched as the little kids twirled around in the red dirt, trying to watch the other players but being pulled by that desire to just be a kid. I watched as parents and grandparents yelled encouragement from the sidelines. Way to go! Great hit! Way to hustle! were just a few of the words that rang out in the air.

Coaches who wore many hats. Father. Mentor. Leader. Friend. They were there to offer guidance to the boys and girls in uniform. A turn of their body. Positioning the bat. Just like that, they were ready to hit. 

Several batters and a few homeruns later, I was pulled back into the moment by a mom telling her child on the other end of the phone that the game was almost over. I had made it! I didn't have crippling pain. I was able to enjoy a Tuesday afternoon. Looking over and seeing my nephew and actually being able to BE there and wave at him as he smiled back at me meant something to me.

It meant that I was able to make memories. I didn't have to apologize for not being there. I was there. And I didn't take that for granted.

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