The past month has been a walk down memory lane. Unpacking boxes will do that to a person. Returning to our house after a six month stay in an apartment with minimal things while storing the remainder of our belongings - junk as we have been known to call it - boxes are being unopened and memories and precious moments are being recalled.
While unpacking a box labeled, "Stuff worth keeping and photographs,"(currently stored in the basement where all the boxes of junk are being stored until their proper place is revealed) this picture was uncovered. We have multiple copies of this picture for obvious reasons. The original being with our son who is the boy at the top of the picture and now 21.
This photo brought back the memory of a magical day when a mother and her 8 year old son went to Florida to watch their favorite baseball team and players during spring training. A trip given to them by their husband/father as a way to relax after the loss of a father/grandparent.
Living in the Washington, DC area, where at the time there was no baseball team, we followed the Baltimore Orioles. Having young children and two baseball playing boys it was a wonderful way to spend time together as a family. We all went - mom, dad, brothers, and sister. When the boys were younger they cheered for BJ Surhoff (or as they would pronounced it "Surfoff") and they booed when the Yankees came to town. As parents we regaled them with stories of Memorial Stadium, World Series wins, and Eddie Murray. BUT, at that time it was all about Cal.
When we went to spring training it was Cal's last season. We went hoping for a closer glimpse of him before he retired. It was a quick trip and the day we had tickets to the game there was a rain delay and Cal was no where to be found. Trying to hide disappointment and to make lemonade we stuck around the stadium and took it all in. We saw tents behind the stadium and thought the players probably had to stay close by for a reception of some kind.
"Good things come to those who wait," I remember telling my son. "Don't let this drizzle get in the way of our fun." As a young parent I was in the habit of trying to impart wisdom to our children - knowing that I had a small window when they actually thought I had something meaningful to say I threw a lot of stuff out there hoping some of it would stick. One of my frequent wisdom sayings was, "It doesn't matter what you do in life really - it matters how you do it and who you are when you're doing it." Cal made this one easy. He was one of the go to guys as an example of just how this looked.
Tragically, the game was called due to weather. My son wanted to throw in the towel and leave. Instead we stood in the drizzle near a chain link fence whilst owners, important guests, players, coaches, and their families started to arrive under the tent for a reception. Shamelessly we stood there hoping to catch people on their way in or out. My son with a clean baseball and a Sharpee. Myself with an umbrella and a hopeful attitude.
Then it happened. Someone we actually knew walked out from the reception and passed us. They stopped to say hello and invited us in.
"What? No we couldn't." I said, trying to be gracious.
"Don't be silly," was the response. "It's perfectly fine. Let me introduce you around."
Still wearing my mom hat I bent down to my son and said, "There are a lot of important people here with their families. We will not bother them. Let's just take it all in and be happy we are here. AND if you are introduced to anyone please remember to call them Mr. and Mrs. and not by their first names even though you know who they are from TV and baseball games."
"Yes mom," was his reply. Pretty sure he rolled his eyes as I stood up.
We walked in and the very first person my son saw was Cal Ripken. I have no idea what his face looked like when he saw Cal but I did see Cal's face and he burst out laughing! He waved my son over to his table.
What happened next I can remember as if it happened yesterday.
"Hi", he said. "My name's Cal."
My son shook his hand and said, "Nice to meet you."
Then he turned to me and said, "See mom I can call him Cal. You don't have to worry. He said it was okay."
The rest of the afternoon was incredible. Many players and coaches were there. They were gracious to me and my son as we tried to fit in as best we could.
There were other children there and as kids do when they get bored of grown up talk they started a game of tag. One boy went up to his dad and said, "You promised you would play with us." The dad did not disappoint his son. He played tag with the kids, my son included, and that's when this picture was taken. Just a couple of kids playing tag with a dad.
It got dark and it was time to go. We said our good byes and walked on air to the car.
On the way back home my son turned to me and said, "Mom, I always knew that Cal Ripken was a great baseball player but do you know what he really is? He is just a really fun dad."
Thanks Mr. Ripken for this memory. By example you taught my son and me a valuable lesson first hand. It really does not matter what you do as much as how you do it and who you are when you are doing it.
Definitely put in the right box - "Stuff worth keeping."
Back to unpacking.
Magda
1. If I were a Rock Band I would be Led Zeppelin. Perennially searching for the "Stairway to Heaven". (Go to number 5 and see if I succeed)
