George Strait’s “Breath You Take” was the final straw that facilitated the release of tears I’d been holding back most of the day. Tears appear to be an inevitable part of the happy moments — pointing out how bittersweet they are for us.
I was on the way to YaYa’s last game — the one which would decide which team would take home the trophy and have the honor of representing our league at the division Tournament of Champions (TOC). It’s just one of the many moments where the awareness of the missing father in the father-son moment lingers in the background. Not for me, but for the YaYa. Father’s Day will be another. We’ve a lifetime of many more events ahead of us — events where tears remind me of how precious and wonderful life is.
Today, I was the lucky one to be alive and in the stands to witness this glorious moment of triumph. I was the one to congratulate YaYa for sticking it out in spite of the struggles to regain his skills after a year away from baseball as well as finding a balance between academics and baseball.
I was also the one to refocus his attention post-game to homework, dinner, and getting a good nights sleep, and tell him once again that I love him. I think the words are always nice to hear.
allanjel says
My heart goes out to YaYa.
(I just lost a 25 year old father with a 17 month old son a few days ago on my floor and it broke my heart to know he will not have anymore first hand experience of what an extraordinary man his father was.)
Thank God, HE gave YaYa such an AMAZING and STRONG mother.