Journey to the Center of a Baseball
A nice early summer day. The day before the 4th of July, I was done cutting my lawn. A little sweat trickled from my head. I sat down in a chair to over look the fine grooming job I did to my grass. I had no where to go this weekend and liked it that way. I remember all the days cutting the lawn when I was young, when my father could catch me to do it.
When the lawn was done back then, I’d sit outside for awhile, listen to the unmistakable sounds of summer. Other neighbors buzzing their lawns or hedge trimmers. Kids playing, my parents probably fighting and me looking for something to lose my mind in.
As I sat there, I remember taking a wrecked baseball and seeing the cover was coming off. While it was sacrilege to tear up a baseball when I was a kid, I wanted to learn all about on. After unwinding what seems like miles and miles of string and yarn of various colors and grades, the middle was just a chunk of rubber. It took almost a half hour to reach the center.
Today as I sat in my chair over looking my lawn, I saw a baseball coming apart and decided to take the long journey that I hadn’t taken in almost 30 years. I began the unwinding process to the same sounds I probably heard years ago.
People working on their lawns, kids playing, some early fireworks and an argument coming from my house.
Doodle comes outside and asks, “What the hell are you doing?”
“Dissecting a baseball, it has been years since I’ve done this.”
“Why are you doing that?”
“Because I can and because I haven’t done this since I was a kid.”
Bri comes outside and sees she’s getting on me and says, “Leave the guy alone, he’s having a rare peaceful moment.”
She walks away as I continued to unravel. As I did, I thought about being a kid and how innocent life was and how much life has changed since I last unwrapped a baseball. I love baseball and I love to see how a baseball ticks.
Things are so different now, I’m the dad now, much of my family has come and gone and no one sees each other as much as they used to. But as I rolled away the miles and miles of string, I finally reached the inside and realized something.
The neighborhood is different, its a different lawn, different neighbors grooming their lawn, different little kids playing and different people arguing in the house. Yet no matter what changes, the middle of the baseball is still the same, just a chunk of rubber.
I also realized I’m pretty blessed to be living some place where I can sit on a Sunday afternoon after cutting my own grass, and unroll a baseball and not worry about anything.
Happy 4th everyone, find something mindless to do. Because you can...
When the lawn was done back then, I’d sit outside for awhile, listen to the unmistakable sounds of summer. Other neighbors buzzing their lawns or hedge trimmers. Kids playing, my parents probably fighting and me looking for something to lose my mind in.
As I sat there, I remember taking a wrecked baseball and seeing the cover was coming off. While it was sacrilege to tear up a baseball when I was a kid, I wanted to learn all about on. After unwinding what seems like miles and miles of string and yarn of various colors and grades, the middle was just a chunk of rubber. It took almost a half hour to reach the center.
Today as I sat in my chair over looking my lawn, I saw a baseball coming apart and decided to take the long journey that I hadn’t taken in almost 30 years. I began the unwinding process to the same sounds I probably heard years ago.
People working on their lawns, kids playing, some early fireworks and an argument coming from my house.
Doodle comes outside and asks, “What the hell are you doing?”
“Dissecting a baseball, it has been years since I’ve done this.”
“Why are you doing that?”
“Because I can and because I haven’t done this since I was a kid.”
Bri comes outside and sees she’s getting on me and says, “Leave the guy alone, he’s having a rare peaceful moment.”
She walks away as I continued to unravel. As I did, I thought about being a kid and how innocent life was and how much life has changed since I last unwrapped a baseball. I love baseball and I love to see how a baseball ticks.
Things are so different now, I’m the dad now, much of my family has come and gone and no one sees each other as much as they used to. But as I rolled away the miles and miles of string, I finally reached the inside and realized something.
The neighborhood is different, its a different lawn, different neighbors grooming their lawn, different little kids playing and different people arguing in the house. Yet no matter what changes, the middle of the baseball is still the same, just a chunk of rubber.
I also realized I’m pretty blessed to be living some place where I can sit on a Sunday afternoon after cutting my own grass, and unroll a baseball and not worry about anything.
Happy 4th everyone, find something mindless to do. Because you can...
posted by CuzzinDave at 1:30 PM
5 Comments:
Sounds like a perfect thing to do on a holiday (or any) afternoon, Dave.
You've got me wondering now if I've got an old baseball sitting around here somewhere...
Its an interesting journey really. It was nice to sit outside Sunday and relax.
I find it amazing and very unfortunate that so many people don't take those rare and peaceful moments. Glad to know I'm not the only one. Keep enjoying your journey. Yours is the kind I take pride in fighting and living for.
-A soldier
And more importantly, THANK YOU solider, whoever you may be and may YOUR journey be a safe one!
Too many times I feel as if my sanity is unraveling...what a joy it is to take these rare, peaceful moments. I usually find mine close to a body of water.
Post a Comment
<< Home