Spring Renewal

Pitchers and catchers report to Spring Training any day now. Over the weekend my first grader and four-year-old reported somewhat early. It was just barely warm enough to play outside, and the first thing they wanted was to take batting practice in the backyard. Nevermind that my glove was soaked through with melting snow, and that it was still cold enough to numb fingers into immobility. They love baseball.

My dad wasn't much of a sports fan. It just wasn't his thing. But my sons love to play and watch most sports. The older one especially loves baseball. It is everything to him. And we are lucky enough that our home team happens to be in the midst of a great few years.

Ten days after they lost their papa, we had this great week where I took each of my sons to a home game on different nights just as the pennant race was heating up. We ate dollar hotdogs, we saw a walk-off homer, and we even saw the much-anticipated debut of a prized rookie- a 22-year-old whom my first-grader still calls "the kid".

Was this a sign of disrespect for my dad? An indication that I hadn't mourned properly or enough? Was I ignoring my duties as a son? None of the above. I took my boys to see their team because I can never, would never, stop being their dad. Not for a nanosecond. Not in the middle of my deepest grief. My own dad would expect nothing less.

A good friend told me at the very beginning that nobody would think I didn't miss or love my dad if I didn't feel like moping around inconsolably at all times. I think that is quite right. People process feelings in different ways. There is no right or wrong way to mourn. Dad would have understood that there was something redemptive about spending that kind of time with my sons, especially while we were having such a hard time.

So here we are with winter (hopefully) yielding to spring, and with my family awakening a bit. My baby girl, who only met her papa once, is now walking, and will soon celebrate her first birthday. After a long dark period, I've set some personal goals for myself, and am moving in the right direction. And as I said at the top, the boys are getting ready for baseball. We will always have a hole where there should be my dad, but we won't stop enjoying life together. He would never have asked us to. I think if he could see the shape we're in now, he'd be proud of us for looking forward to what is ahead.