Nostalgia

One of my earliest memories is of watching baseball with my grandfather. He died just a couple of years after I was born, but my mom and I and my grandparents lived together so I reason that is why I can remember him, at all.

From everything I've ever heard about my grandfather he was an extraordinary man. He was a good provider, working very hard to care for his wife and 8 (8!) children. But he was more than that, as few men were in his time. He was hilarious, always out to make someone laugh. A good prankster he could trick you twice before you figured out he'd done it even once. He was good natured and a natural flirt-all the ladies loved him (apparently). Even though he gave his fair share of winks there was no doubt he loved my grandmother first, loved her only.

Anyway, I can remember distinctly times I spent with him watching the game. We both sat on this big round black leather footstool in the center of the living room, smack dab in front of the television. He'd yell at the television, but being a toddler, I had no clue what was going on so I'd just yell "Yeah!" in agreement with whatever he was shouting. He was the only person who could make me sit still. I was as impressed by him as everyone else was.


I guess the reason I'm thinking about this is that I just spent the last 3 hours thinking and writing about baseball, and baseball related products for the new column. I wrote notes last night, waiting for sleep to take me, and managed to crank out eight pages before it did; the most I've ever managed. Today, it just all fell into place; the easiest it's ever been. I may have been trying a little harder this time than I have the past couple of months, but I think I've just finally hit my stride. I see some things a lot more clearly than I did before. Today, I think my Grandpa would be proud.

March 18th

Some years ago today, my Aunt Frances was born. As my Grandmother looked down at what would turn out to be her last child, I wonder if she knew what a special person she and my Grandfather had just brought into the world. From the stories I hear passed amongst my family, she has been a wonder all her life, these days topping her own personal best with each new year.

When she wanted to play guitar, she got a teacher. Now she writes songs and has even been to the recording studio a couple of times, allowing professional singers mix their voices with her words to make a satisfying combination.

When she wanted to change her life, shake things up a little, she set her mind to it and is now happier and more content with things than I think she had been for some time beforehand.

One of my most important memories is of my Aunt. I was 4 and she was preparing to get married and leave for Florida, where she would live for the next 8 years. She danced with me in the middle of the living room, singing "Tea For Two". Now, when I hear that song it always puts a smile on my face, and frankly, it doesn't happen often enough.

Years later, when I was in sixth grade, she came to visit and in a matter of hours had charmed my hellkitten, Kansas. Something I had tried for months to do, she managed in a day. I stared in amazement as Kansas curled right up and slept that night with her. To me, that was magical. She had 'the touch'.

My aunt has always been there for me even in my most idiotic, unglamorous moments. She offers support when I need it, and guidance when I am lost. She is the kind of family you want to have, and the kind of family you hope you are or wish you could be. She is one of my biggest fans and cheerleaders, and I hope she knows that I am one of hers too. I am proud of the person she grew up to be, and I feel it a privilege to know her.

The birthday card I bought her this year pretty much sums it up:

"You don't get to pick your relatives, but I just wanted you to know, If a vote ever comes up, I'm keeping you"

Happy Birthday Sissy.