August 30, 2008

"HMMM….Should I sign my son up for a baseball team again this year….or not?" These thoughts rang through my head as I did dishes, changed diapers, and watched kids play in the back yard. Honestly, the "or not" part of the question seemed most appealing to me. I wanted to avoid the schedules, the sitting in the middle of a non shaded field in the mid- summer heat with my three other children - just to watch my son hit - two times.

"It's not worth it," I thought. "There must be a better way." Then my mind went to thoughts of that better way. It went to times of what unfortunately seems to be the past, when kids freely played baseball in the park…leisurely gathering in backyards just to swing the bat around. Then that "just to swing the bat around" developed into an all out baseball game that lasted until the whiteness of the ball mixed in with the moon and tired eyes, hands and hearts ran home to bed. As I fantasized about those days, I dreamt of my own children having that experience and smiled. I then realized that it doesn't have to be a dream, it can be a reality. I can create it.

My husband and I talked about it and agreed that starting our own "neighborhood baseball league" could be done and that the value of playing baseball with neighbors, friends and family members of all ages and sexes was much greater than playing on an age/gender segregated team with kids who they barely knew, sweating under the hot sun, waiting for their turn to play. So we put the wheels into motion. I contacted neighbors and other home school families. We let them know that every Wednesday night at 7:15 PM we would be at the park with bases, bats, balls and hearts ready to play that great old fashioned game of baseball….and people responded. Adults played. Kids played. Boys and girls played. Toddlers and teens swung the bat. Grandpas and grandmas came to sit, watch, and smile in remembrance. Dogs ran. Babies crawled. Families talked and laughed together. Moms played. Dads played. Kids delighted…and we stayed until the ball blended in with the moon.

On the last official night of play, we celebrated our time together and new friendships formed with fire, marshmallows, and music. For it was more than just baseball, it was healing. A healing took place in our adult hearts that longed for something more than just sitting under the hot sun waiting. A healing took place as this was the answer needed to the question, "Do I have to run my child to yet another thing?" For this was not just another thing, it was community forming, relationship building and family bonding, and it got us connected with the child inside of ourselves as we played, had fun, and were like big kids again. And for our children, it was healing. It was healing because this Wednesday night venue was a place where the could be free - where they felt emotionally safe. Ability or skill did not matter here. This was not a place where they would be graded, watched, judged, or where they had to prove themselves. This was a field where they could just be themselves and be with their siblings, moms and dads, and friends in love and in joy - no strings attached.

Next year, at this time, I will not be mulling over the question, "Will I sign my kids up for baseball again?" I will know the answer, and a smile will come across my face as I think of Wednesday nights with grandmas and grandpas, babies, bonfires, and baseball…