After a meeting, as the sun burns bright,

 And after yoga, the sun low in her eyes,

 shares my joy and my heartache,

 I see her face change with my words,

 reflecting my feelings,

 For this precious gift of friendship,

that is given without expectation,
that is selfless
and nurturing,
that holds me together when nothing else does,

Thank you.
I hope that I can be that friend to you.
*
Asking for your prayers again for another friend and her family,
and especially her sister,
especially this morning.
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Favorite Photo Friday
Friday Photo Journal

Little by Little

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***

But in the middle of the stress and busy chaos that comes with this time,

I think the nostalgia would crumble me.

He’s graduating tonight.

And he’s already played his last baseball game.

And what a game it was.
It began with the All-Conference team selection for our Inter Mountain Athletic Conference {IMAC}.

This game was for the conference title, and we were playing the first seed. They had home field advantage.

Baseball is a different team game.
When the batter gets up, it’s just him. There is no team at that moment. Same when the pitcher pitches, and the catcher catches, and the fielders field. It’s a team sport with lots of solo performances.

As a parent, you are so excited when they have the opportunity to perform.

And scared to death for them, too.

This game…
It started as a beautiful evening, and the boys played hard. At one point, though, the opponent hit a home run with two men already on base. By the bottom of the 5th inning, we were losing 1-6.

I had this sinking feeling in my chest, and I think most of the people with me in the stands believed it was over… That this would be their last game of the season, his last baseball game ever. But I heard our coach encouraging from within the dugout,

“Don’t stop playing now! Don’t stop playing now!”

And.they.didn’t.

They earned it back, hit by hit, play by play, run by run.

It grew dark, and we could hear thunder in the distance. And it grew as those boys pushed on. It got so loud, I could feel my chest vibrate with the rumble of the thunder. My husband said, “That’s the sound of the Trojans coming.” And I smiled. Their energy was palpable, just like the thunder. You could feel it.

Soon, there was lightening, too, but with the score tied for the IMAC Championship, the refs let them play on. It struck first in the distance, and then it was jumping cloud-to-cloud over the boys, in the sky behind the field. 

We would score, but then they would, too, matching us run-for-run. {As the home team, they have last at-bat.}

And the rain poured down!

Until, finally.

Our pitcher struck out the first three batters at the bottom of the 10th inning.

To my son, these boys, and coach Stansbury :: Congratulations! Well-earned!

To coaches Martin, Gary, Christopher, Woody, Bacon, Mike, Stansbury; to the Indians, Weevils, Dodgers, Yard Dogs, Knights, Eagles, Trojans :: Thank you for a solid ten years of baseball memories we will cherish for the rest of our lives.

Jordan
#20, pitcher, first baseman, outfielder
IMAC All-Conference Team
IMAC Champion

Morristown-Hamblen West High Trojan Graduate

Thank you, Dan Browning, for sharing this captured moment.

Video moments to note ::

~ the smiles on each and every one
~ young man at the bottom of the pile kicking his feet
~ our head coach, just after the coaches congratulate each other, touching his lip… you can feel this moment
~ one of pitchers, backrolling out of the pile

PS :: I will write that post.

I just need to find my courage again.

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Favorite Photo Friday
Friday Photo Journal

Little by Little

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***

iphone photography

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Wishing you a wonderful weekend and a very happy Mother’s Day!

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Favorite Photo Friday
Friday Photo Journal

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***

This girl…

Her energy level is crazy.

Or maybe I’m just getting old.

She had me follow her and her friends to the park Saturday to take pictures.

{Girls these days love taking their pictures!}

And I was glad to do it…

Glad to spend time with them,
Seeing their interactions,
listening to their words,
feeling their energy.

Have you been to Pearls for Girls yet?

So excited about some of the opportunities this adventure is bringing…
Chances to affect girls,
maybe change some lives.

It’s “my” week to post at PFG…
I do hope you’ll stop by and leave your thoughts in the comment section…
It’s YOUR way to affect some change.
You can follow us on other social media, too…

We’re trying to reach them where they are…

And maybe turn some things upside down.

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Sweet Shot Tuesdays
Communal Global
Inspired Tuesday
52 Weeks of Happiness

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College graduate, Bailee

I suppose you can tell by my absence from my blog what a crazy time of year this is. And this year? This year, my oldest graduates from high school. {I have yet to take HIS senior pictures!} His baseball team finished 2nd in our district, so we will host post-season games. This is great, for home-field advantage, but it also means another round of working the concession stand and gate. The boys have taken their AP tests, and finals are under way. Lexi has danced in her last competition for this season, and rehearsals for recitals will begin soon.

Then there’s senior pictures. Whoo. I do love this time of year and spending bits of it with these young people… full of relief for things accomplished and full of hope and plans for their futures.

I just met Bailee last night, though I’ve known her mother and sisters for a while. She hopes to find a job in teaching and stay in our area. This is something that really struck my husband and I when we were thinking about moving here :: everyone stays or comes back. Says something about this community, don’t you think?

Good luck, Bailee, and thank you for the time you spent with me yesterday. I’m sure your parents and family are proud of you!

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Wishing you a wonderful weekend!

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Favorite Photo Friday
Friday Photo Journal

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]]> http://www.findingserendipity.com/1440-42-may/feed/ 8 http://www.findingserendipity.com/1440-41-shes-late-but-shes-here/ http://www.findingserendipity.com/1440-41-shes-late-but-shes-here/#comments Fri, 26 Apr 2013 10:36:37 +0000 patty http://www.findingserendipity.com/?p=5471  Spring came late this year.
 We had so much rain and cold weather…
 But then one day,
 {and seemingly,
all at once}
 There were blossoms on the trees again.

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{Have a wonderful weekend!}

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Favorite Photo Friday
Friday Photo Journal

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“settle down, it’ll all be clear
don’t pay no mind to the demons
they fill you with fear”

***

Life lessons are hard.

I was 19. Too young and far too sensitive to know. My car had just been vandalized, and I had made the hour and half drive from college to home. I sat crying on the couch. Dad left the room, probably frustrated, maybe enraged. Both he and my mom had tried to console me. I didn’t think they could possibly understand. It wasn’t just a car. It was my car. I had earned it. I had worked hard for it and saved, and then worked some more to have it painted. My ’66 Mustang. I’d bought her for $900, $400 of which was graduation gift money. She was faded pink, top coat of paint burned out from sitting 20 years in the sun. Rubber hung dry-rotted from the wheels and the spark plugs, well, let’s just say that was the only magic piece that need replacing to light her fire.  $900 and I was a senior with a new car.

A really cool car.

I worked hard that summer. My days started teaching a 6:30 am class at the gym, and ended at midnight or later, depending which night it was and when the restaurant closed, and it included a full day, six days each week, lifeguarding and teaching swimming lessons. I was working to earn money for college, but I motivated and rewarded myself with a $500 paint job.
Candy Apple Red.

I tried to explain to my parents, it’s not the car. It’s the intention. They did it intentionally. They ground that cabled gas cap round and round until there was a perfect silver circle around the gas tank opening. They drug a teaspoon from the back bumper to the front, creating a silver racing stipe a quarter inch thick down the side of the car, deep into that candy apple. They wrote foul things on my white walls with permanent marker and bent the windshield wipers and it was all too much, really.

How easily they took something from me that meant so much {because I had worked so hard for it} with the swift swipe of a spoon and a marker. How could they? Why would they?  And how in the world could I ever get anyone to understand how what they did to my car, the act of it, affected me?

My mother said, I know you feel alone. That’s why they say we’re born alone and we die alone. Sometimes I feel alone, even though I have you girls and your father…

And it occurred to me, for the first time in my life, I truly am alone. This stupid act, something that happens all the time all over the world to better people than me, shoved me hard right into adulthood.

“The trouble it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found

Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m going to make this place your home”

30 years later and it’s not the car that I ended up selling four or five years later for $100 more than I’d bought it. It’s this rollercoaster life, the continuous wave of up and down. It’s children leaving and bodies aging and  relationships changing. It’s the need to feel connection with others, to know we are loved and valued.

And I remember her words loud and clear, remnants of a quote by Orson Wells:

We’re born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we are not alone.

*

And he comes home, unaware and pulls me in tight.
And he sings softly into my ear,

“hold on, to me as we go
as we roll down this unfamiliar road
and although this wave is stringing us along
just know you’re not alone
cause I’m going to make this place your home

Settle down, it’ll all be clear
Don’t pay no mind to the demons
They fill you with fear
The trouble it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found

Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m gonna make this place your home”

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Imperfect Prose

Loves on a Thursday

Little Things Thursday

Rurality

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There are 1440 minutes in every day… 1440 opportunities to capture a moment of beauty. What moment of beauty did you capture this week?

 These two are fifteen months apart…
 And they are as different as night and day.
 Well, superficially.
Truly, they are alike in all the ways that matter.
 And I’m so grateful.

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Sweet Shot Tuesdays
Communal Global
Inspired Tuesday
52 Weeks of Happiness

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He could teach some adults quite a bit.

And I’m not even talking about baseball.

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Favorite Photo Friday
Friday Photo Journal

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Sweet Shot Tuesdays

Communal Global

Inspired Tuesday

52 Weeks of Happiness