5:45am I am remembering 18 years ago. Moving back to Wyoming, commuting in to Utah every day for a month. Being the Hospice Chaplain. The memories still feel fresh. Vibrant. “…that’s my favorite time, to rewind my life on…” Willie Nelson.
Interesting memory…playing baseball in high school. I played many positions. We had a big opening game in a tournament we were hosting. I started the game pitching. Held the other team in check for three innings. They got to me the second time through the line up. I was pulled in the fifth inning. My dad came to me after the game. “That other coach was really good. He sized you up, saw your tendencies and then had his team adjust their approach.” That was it. No pep talk. No tear down. No advice how to address/counter. My dad objectively appreciated how a coach identified a way to improve his teams performance. My dad didn’t express frustration at my performance. Didn’t express sympathy. He simply marveled how a man coaching against his son used his intelligence to win. I am not really mad about the memory. I suppose I could be. I suppose anyone could be mad at their parents. If my dad had said he was disappointed would that have been better? If he would have yelled and told me to win at any cost would that have been better? There is no right answer. My dad was who he was and reacted to the situation in his unique way. He was a fascinated observer of life. I appreciate him for who he was.
mikemeyer949 