The hands we held
The hands we held

 

Up at 6:00 a.m. to be an hour and 15 minutes early for an 8:00 game, I am sitting watching rain plop onto my windshield as the coaches discuss the weather. Players, one by one, decide to get out of cars and look at the field. I gaze out at the backs of young men and grown men as they continue to “examine the field” and discuss Lord knows what as they wait to decide…try to “get it in”or leave.

I glance over at my friend, sitting in her car, she and her son…watching as are we as the men watch the rain fall. My son joins the group…so her son follows along. I join her in the passenger seat and together we watch the men watch the rain….oh, the glorious life of a baseball mom!

Minutes later, the young men walk towards us in small groups of two or three. We both wait…we’ll go with flow. We go home or we go back to hotel or we play tomorrow or we come back later.

We’ll be ok with whatever the choice because we’re here, we are doing our part on this journey to our son’s dream…to have baseball be a part of college.

So, decision was made. Game cancelled, we play at 3. It’s likely to be raining then. My friend is a realist. She told me it will be raining there.

No matter, though. We’ll be there an hour 15 minutes before the game. That’s how we roll! 🙂

Back in hotel room…changed into yoga pants enjoying chick fila breakfast in bed and watching ESPN Sports Center (again) I am strangely content, nevertheless hopeful.

Because I have learned and for some wonderfully unknown reason, I am focused on the good of this crazy, expensive, inconvenient, off schedule rainy delayed weekend. The good, cherished time with my son and my friend.

Thanks to my baseball mom friends, here a few bits of advice and reminders:

  1. Moms, we gotta learn to go to sleep when they’re out at night. Start trying now.
  2. Moms, it’s weird for them to be in a hotel room with us…know this and find someplace to go for a few minutes or at least be okay with them going into Pandora zone.
  3. Moms, do NOT visit your son at the dugout…not even the fence.
  4. Moms, try hard not to do anything old lady, crazy, scatter brained or “cool”. You will be the source of entertainment in the dugout.
  5. Moms, try hard not to fix a bad mood after a bad game.
  6. Moms, if we don’t understand why men stare at a rain drenched field for half an hour…doesn’t it make sense that quite possibly we might never understand lots of this baseball journey/process to the path to college play?

FINALLY, Moms…pray about everything. TRUST THE PROCESS…this recruiting thing…especially where God will place your son, which field, campus and coach.

it’s his future, not yours.  Our children are not our puppets.

The hands we held…we release.  The hand we held will be held by God.

P.S.  As I blog, Austin naps…My 6’5″ young man who used to hold my hand.

 

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