I’ve reached an age where I have grandchildren…two grandsons, to be exact. Granted, I reached that age a bit earlier than others, because I started everything earlier than most. I was hired as a full-time sworn police officer at 19 years old, got married at 20, and had my first son at 21. Thank God it all happened when it did, because I can now enjoy being a grandfather despite some limitations brought on by cancer and a physically rambunctious career. It’s my first son who now has two boys of his own…and, man, what a treasure.
Children are a heritage from the Lord,
offspring a reward from him.
Like arrows in the hands of a warrior
are children born in one’s youth.
Blessed is the man
whose quiver is full of them.
They will not be put to shame
when they contend with their opponents in court.
My oldest grandson started playing T-ball this year. I discovered there are few things more enjoyable than watching a bunch of 5-year-olds run around a ball field on gangly legs that don’t always work right and wearing huge batting helmets that make them all look like human toadstools. It reminds me of Disney’s Fantasia, only with shrill screaming. In fact, one youngster has decided his position requires him to continually run back and forth from second plate and home base…screaming. What fun! Another feels the need to throw himself to the ground and roll around in the grass on each play. Apparently, he saw an adult player dive for a ball once and figured that was just part of the game…ball or no ball.
With all the insanity in the world, it’s nice to see that someone still feels the need to mindlessly roll around in the grass. Major League Baseball is getting started, too. That’s where a lot of adults who used to be toadstools go to play in the grass. True, it’s tainted by big money, spitting coaches, critical managers, rude fans, and agents spinning out big contracts. But the players we favor are the ones who stay grounded to the game. It may be frivolous and pretentious in many ways, but it’s a tonic to others who fight the wars, work to cure cancer, scrape dead bodies off the street…or simply grind out a living for themselves and their families five days a week.
“Sometimes you gotta slow down and let your soul catch up.”
(Jamaican saying…it’s better if you imagine it with the appropriate accent)
I find “a beer and a dog” help, too.
If things are getting you down, I highly recommend catching a T-ball game at a neighborhood field. We may not see him, but I’ll bet God will be in the stands taking a breather of his own. Why not?