Filling the Void

It’s interesting this feeling of emptiness I am experiencing. It’s kind of like my best friend left town but I can’t call her. It’s a little like I have moved to a new place and I don’t know anyone and I’m not quite sure what to do with myself. But more than anything it feels a little like someone died, like there is a void in my heart that was once filled.

 

I know some of you may think that sounds silly, kind of crazy that a sport can take on this life of its own but it does, and it did and it has left a big space in my heart. That space was filled with cool Friday nights that I anticipated from my desk all week, living for the smell of the freshly mowed grass and the pop corn that Mr. Norm had ready for my Friday night ‘happy hour’. The space in my heart was filled with Sunday mornings after church standing and hearing the National Anthem being belted out by little Caroline Rhett and feeling spiritual all over again only this time worshipping a ‘different’ god. This hole in my heart was filled with a multitude of people, some more dysfunctional than others, but all part of my baseball family. I loved all these things about baseball but none more than I loved the players. Each with their idiosyncrasies and their dances at the plate, some looking like baseball models while others looked dirty and wore torn pants with pride. Oh, those boys of summer, how I loved them all.

 

Before I leave you completely I want to share with you something I received this week because I think we can all learn from it. Someone I really don’t know well came up to me at one of the games and gave me a note (to be read later). I truly thought the note would be about having enjoyed watching my son play ball but it was far different. The note was about watching ‘me as a fan’ and what she had learned from it. Who knew? But now I know from this beautiful letter, so eloquently written, that I touched this young woman’s heart and helped her better understand baseball and players. So from this we can learn two things; we should always behave like someone is watching because truly we never know when we are being used as their example, and we should always send notes like these because honestly it was one of the best ‘thank you’ notes I have ever received. I felt validation for every night I stayed up way past my bedtime editing and posting photos or writing blogs.

I have loved my baseball life and feel very blessed by all it has given me and want to thank each of you for the moments you have taken out of your life, to watch a game, or read my blog, or look at my photo journals so you too could experience one of the best moments in life and also love these boys of summer.

Now forgive me if I don’t come out to play for a day or two as I mull this over and relive a few moments in my mind and try to figure out how I am going to fill this hole in my heart.

Hopefully. Next season. I will see you at the field.

Trudy



Leave the Lights on for Me

I spent many years at Sloan Baseball Field when Cole was growing up. It’s a baseball complex in Mount Pleasant that takes young boys from their first games up through their 12 year old leagues. I would arrive at the field early, run the concession stand and was often the last to leave. I liked nothing better than to be the first to get there and stand behind the home plate fence and look at the beautiful field and feel the energy as the place came to life. There was a time when I thought I wanted my ashes spread there when I left this world.

Then Cole moved on and so did I until finally we both arrived at Patriot’s Point, the home of Cougar Baseball. It seems impossible to believe that my son started 201 games on that field, that he grew from a boy to a man and that today I left the stadium for the last time as a College of Charleston baseball player’s mom. I’m sure I’ll be back, I love baseball too much but it will be different. It’s funny how you can come to love a place and how it feels like it is yours after a while. How you sit in a seat so long that when someone else sits in it you get a little offended because they don’t understand that it ‘belongs to you’. Many times I took mental attendance by glancing through the stadium at the regulars and if their seat was empty I’d automatically assume they weren’t at the game not that they had moved to escape the sun. It becomes a habit, a part of who you are when you spend four years on the same field. It’s like a coming home when you drive over the Ravenel Bridge and see the field lights on, kind of like the porch light on a dark night. It feels good.

I would be lying if I said I’m glad it is over because I’m not but I will say I’m glad I got to call this place home. I’ve always been proud to say my son played for the College of Charleston but I guess it is time to give my seat to another fan. I hope they love it as much as I have. I hope they smile and talk to Norm and Timothy every day on their way into the stadium. I hope they tell Milton that the grass is beautiful and I hope they are kind to Miss Audra when she has to enforce the ticket sign in, because even though I may be moving on it feels like I’m leaving some of my family behind.

So tonight Patriots Point I bid you farewell and thank you for the joy you have brought to my life and for the way you embraced my son. You have been good to me and I have grown to love you.

I will definitely be back so please leave the lights on for me.

See you at the field.

Tomorrow we head to Birmingham for our last regular season play, then on to the Southern Conference tournament. I know the ride is almost over and I know I’ve said it before but indulge me one more time, “it’s been a great one”.