The End of the Game

It was the bottom of the last inning.

There were two outs, runners at second and third.

The pitcher was up to bat. Accustomed to only pitching relief, this was the very first time he had pitched an entire game and now it was his turn at the plate. His team was behind by one run. No pressure, right?

The stretch... the pitch...

The young player flashed into bunt position. The bunt was perfectly executed, the ball landed just a few feet into fair territory. The runner sprinted from third while the shortstop scooped up the ball and fired it to the catcher at home plate. SAFE!!

The runner from second base made it safely to third, and then took off like a shot when the catcher bulleted the ball to the first baseman. SAFE AT FIRST as the winning run crossed the plate!

The team dumped the Gatorade jug on their pitcher who had just bunted in the winning runs. Even if he never does anything else in baseball, he will have the memory of this game forever.

Every kid needs to experience having the Gatorade dumped on him at least once in his life.

Mama Bear

I received a call from John last night while he was on the bus returning from one of his baseball games, to let us know he was on his way home. In the background, there was a bunch of yelling and horseplay, a lot of that "male bonding" type noise.


A midst the noise, somebody called out, "Hey John! Who ya talking to?"

"It's my mom."

"Your mom? Your mom? Hey, hey John's mom, John had two strikeouts tonight!!"

Then in a chorus they all began shouting: "John! John! John! John! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom!"

I stood there frozen and furious. How could they all be so mean?

It was too loud to hear, so John said he would talk to me when he got home. I waited with tears in my eyes, not knowing what I could say about the taunts. It made my heart hurt for him, since I know how hard he has been working at baseball practice.

A few minutes later, he called back to say he was going out to eat with the team. I asked him if he just wanted to come home instead. He sounded puzzled.

"Well, after all the teasing the guys were doing about your two strikeouts, I am surprised you want to go."

He paused, then started laughing. "Mom, I struck out two batters! They weren't teasing, they were happy for me!!"

Turns out, he was a relief pitcher, and pitched the last inning!

And they won.

Boy, did I feel stupid!

Happy 17th Birthday, John Henry!

The end of our family's percussion era

As everybody knows, the Putnam City High School Band has been a central part of our lives for many years.






It started with Jimmy. He actually trail blazed the way for his younger siblings, as I had never been a band parent before. There was a lot to learn! Marching competitions, equipment needed, expenses, time consumed, fund raising, practicing before sunrise, coda tryouts, drumline tryouts... WOW! I had no idea what being a band parent entailed!



Next, there was Shelby. I already knew the score by that time, and it was much easier... except perhaps the year she broke her ankle in the middle of marching season.



Finally, there is John. By this time, it's a given that band is a part of our lives... except for one thing...



John has decided to leave the band. I can't believe it!!!! But, last week he sat down with me for a serious talk. He has a number of reasons for wanting to leave, all of them valid; the main one being he is working very hard to graduate with honors.

It's probably silly that this whole thing has made me cry the past few days, because it really is up to him. We band parents are supposed to be there for our kids, not the other way around! I keep hoping he will reconsider, but ultimately the decision is his.

Here are a few other memories from the years John has been in band and even before...

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John seemed destined to be a percussionist back when he thought that Jimmy's practice pad made a great toy.



Here he is as the Band Queen crown-bearer back in 2005, when Shelby was a Sophomore.



From some of the football games:








It's been a good time being a band parent, now it's time to rest. :)

A few of my favorite "Being a Mom" photos...

This is what I'm celebrating today. :-)

































Not only am I celebrating these blessings, but I am also lucky enough to have a few "bonus" kids that may have been to big for me to carry by the time they came into my life, but I carry them in my heart.

Happy Mother's Day to everybody who is somebody's Mom, or is a child who blessed the life of a Mom, like all of mine have blessed me!

John goes to Prom!

Like his older brother, John is attending his first formal dance as a sophomore, since his girlfriend is an upper-classman. I had forgotten how much easier it was to help a young man prepare for the prom. A rented tux, a shower, hair combed and he was ready! Wow, is my baby ever handsome!

Something neat happened today, too.

The yellow rose bush bloomed for the first time this year, and not just one bloom. There are at least a dozen blooms and buds on it! I think John's dad is watching today. :)

Our 2010 State Fair Button

Here is this year's Great State Fair photo button...



...the tradition of our family mentioned in John's essay. And, look! The Shriners have gone totally techie! Although the buttons have been digital for the past 4 years or so, this year even the outside banner is computerized. I am sure it is a lot more cost effective than the old Polaroid photos!

The photo button was not this year's biggest highlight of the fair. Our gang decided to surprise John with a 16th birthday celebration.... which was easier than it sounds. He knew we were going to the fair, he just didn't know we made plans for the family to meet up with a cake and presents. Shelby took him off to the midway, and his guests arrived to set up a picnic table with goodies! Pretty sneaky, eh?

Here is a quick little video of our crazy bunch, if you have not already seen it on Facebook. The Fair is a wonderful way of keeping our memories of the past connected with the joys of the present. :)

John's Reflections of his Dad and the State Fair

Once again, State Fair time has come and gone and as always we made sure that we purchased our annual Shriner's photo button. I will scan and post this year's image very soon, but today I am going to share a personal narrative family essay that John wrote about our annual tradition, specifically how much it meant to him the year Andy died.

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Every fall since 1987, it has been a family tradition in my family to go to the State Fair of Oklahoma and get our picture taken at the Indian Shrine Clown photo booth. That tradition was on the line in 2002 and I was full of concerns. Would the tradition be condemned because Dad had passed away at the beginning of that year? Would I be ready to take the picture without him by my side?

It was a beautiful warm and breezy September day. It was the day to spend at the fair. I was so ready to get through that gate into the sea of excitement and good spirit that the fair brings the state year after year.

“The whole gang is coming; we can’t go just because you’re ready.” Mom reminded me as I mercilessly nagged to leave. Before we left she decided that everyone would wear one of Dads hats in memory of him. She assigned me the job of passing them out. As I handed them to Shelby, Bear, Kelly, Mom, Uncle Terry, Lesley, Kendy, Chris, and Logan; each hat brought back memories of better times. When I stepped back and looked at everyone smiling I knew everything would be alright.

On the way I buried myself in thoughts. My mind was overflowing with questions and worries.

“It’s not going be the same without him” I repeatedly told myself. I knew how much this meant to him so I was overwhelmed, as well as terrified that it wouldn’t go like he would have wanted it.

I knew we were almost there as soon as I could see the space needle towering in the distance. I was running short on time to collect my thoughts. “What am I going to do?”

We pulled into the gate 23 parking lot and parked in the paid section. I knew that meant it wouldn’t be long until we were in. As I handed my ticket to the taker I decided it was time to suck it up and snap to reality. When I got through the gate I looked left and right but I couldn’t decide which way to go. Instead of wasting time contemplating, I just went with my first instinct and went right. Reflecting back on that now I regret that decision because the booth was right around the corner to left. That being the case, it wasn’t until we walked completely around the grounds that I saw a clown blowing up a balloon animal. My eyes lit up and without even thinking about it I dashed as fast as I could to the booth. I was so excited that I didn’t even stop to think that my whole family wasn’t running as well. I had to wait as they lollygagged their way over to the booth. Mom and I gathered everyone together on the side of the booth because there were too many of us to take the photo inside.

Limbo the clown came out with the camera and asked “Is everyone ready?” “Say Limbo!” I had to squint as he snapped the picture because I the sun was blaring down on the side of the booth. I knew that wherever Dad was he had a grin on his face because it went exactly how he would have wanted it.

The rest of the night was fun, but nothing could compare to the perfect picture and a tradition perfectly kept alive by love and devotion by my family and our love for Dad. Even still the tradition is kept alive for him, and every year we take something to represent him in the picture. Our newest picture was taken on 9-26-2010. Dad will never be forgotten and he will always be my hero. A tradition should never die because someone is no longer with us.

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It is with great sadness ...

... that after 32 years of excellent daily customer service:












... and I repeat; after 32 long years, Mom's Taxi Service is preparing to close up shop.

John finished Driver's Ed this past summer, has his learner's permit, and he will be turning 16 in the next couple of months!




Exciting times for him! (Scary times for me.) But it is a very important step in his life!

The Kids at the Henry Ford Museum

Welcome home, Son.

This is our 8th Christmas since Andy died. Yesterday, for the very first time since, I saw real, honest-to-goodness joy about the upcoming holiday from my son John. (He's 15 now, by the way...!)

As a matter of fact, out of all of us John has had the hardest time finding his footing in this dreadful storm. He rarely has exhibited enthusiasm about much of anything, it's more like he has been going through the motions of being a kid for the past 8 years. He never totally crashed and burned, but always verged somewhere between melancholy and sullen. Over the years I tried, Shelby tried, then later Arthur tried to help him, but to no avail. Last night, though, something woke up in him. It was like somebody had lit a fire under him!

It started when we were going through some old ornaments that had been misplaced. Some of them were old family decorations, and his spirit was noticably brighter with each one we took out.

"I remember when Daddy used to always play with these trains. And, wow, Mom! I haven't seen this in years! It was always my favorite. And this one always reminded me of magic... and here is that old styrafoam thing that I always loved..."

Hopefully, this change in John will be a lasting one. I was astonished that he actually started singing a Christmas song as he hung ornaments! Our house has not been decked out so much in years.

Some of the ornaments had belonged to Arthur and his late wife Sue, and John asked questions about them as he hung them up. Arthur is not much for decorating, and had been watching TV in the bedroom oblivious to all the activity in the living room. But when he finally came out to investigate, John did something on his own that brought tears to my eyes.

He said, "Hey Arthur! I saved a couple of Sue's ornaments for you to hang and a spot to hang them."

Yes, we are honestly now a family. A blended family, but real none-the-less.

Peace and blessings to all.