♪ Take Me Out to the Ballgame ♪

     'Bout nine years ago, I seemed to be spending a lot of time at the Little League fields here in Wichita Falls. I'd spent lots of time on the Little league fields back in Southern California, too, from 1994 when Randall first played t-ball on the Tigers to Craig making All-stars in 2001.
      Brett was 8 years old nine years ago, and I had a stint at a daycare at the big Methodist church downtown in the toddler room. On days when I wasn't at practice or a game,  my tiny charges kept me hopping from playing on the floor to changing table to playground to lunch time to changing table to naps to snack to toys on the floor again. Andrew was a blond-haired blue-eyed sweetheart, who never cried unless he was tired -- and then that kid seemed to have a flip-top head, and would howl like nobody's business. Funny, too, because his last name was Howell. HA. His peeps in the room, Nathan, Sean, Jeremiah, Lily, and Cason all had their own charming personalities, but Andrew had a hold on my heart. It could have been because his folks, Mark and Nancy, were the only ones who were interested in the folks that cared for their precious one, lingering at the end of the day, becoming familiar with us, truly grateful to us, and not just because we were getting paid to watch their child while they went off to work.
     Married at the time to an AF med tech who was TDY ( on assignment ), I picked up on Mark and Nancy's love for each other and for Andrew. Not that the other parents didn't love their babies, but that they were such good friends as well as spouses and Andrew was so well-adjusted at such an early age. ( I had remarried after an abusive first marriage and moved to Texas, hoping to reprogram myself and my children in a better life). A few years later that hope died out, and I found myself once again raising my three boys on my own. Mark and Nancy and I kept in touch through occasional e-mail,  and eventually ended up attending the same church where my oldest son worked with the children's programs -- bonding with Andrew and Ben. Randall, my oldest, and Mark were baseball / beer buddies. We spent more and more time with them. I marveled at the way their easy way with each other had waxed into a even more beautiful relationship, and what a joy-full family they were. They sure graced everyone's lives with their presence and love.
     Fast forward to today. The same bleachers where I dwelled, all those years ago, bore witness to my little Andrew and his former crib-mate Nathan having their first game of fall baseball. Today was the first game Andrew ever played without his dad in the stands. Mark had routine surgery in late July -- and we lost him to unknown complications, and Nancy mourns his loss every second. Conversely,  today I wait for my love to come home from serving in Afghanistan, next month, when we'll start our future face to face.
    It's the seventh-inning stretch for we two forty-something mommies. While the organ plays the familiar strains, Nancy heads on an unknown ( and unexpected ) journey without her soulmate, and I head into a future with one I'd never even hoped to find. Nancy and Mark had been together for 25 years -- almost as long as it's been since Jon and I have seen each other. We'll stand and cheer on our teams as we each take on new field positions. She can coach me in the ways of a loving and real relationship, and I can coach her in the delicate balance of being a loving mom AND ersatz-dad  to genius/baseball-loving/talented boys. God love us, and play ball!