Swing Like You Mean It

The baseball fields all over America are trimmed, green, and ready for action.
My family will be sitting in the stands again this year because little league is really the only sport I get.
I love the human drama.
In every boy’s baseball career, there comes a turning point. It is the season when he realizes that he is going to have to hit in order to get on base.
One of my favorite moments in any season is when the young pitchers start putting it over the plate. That changes everything. Now the batter has a decision to make.
Should he take his chances on four balls, now that the odds have changed? Or should he swing and risk striking out?
“Swing like you mean it!”
“Go down swinging, son!”
Parents and grandparents shout encouragement, making heroes out of courageous batters even when they strike out.
In keeping with my personal policy of embarrassing my children at every opportunity, I am working on the Guinness Book of World Records for the Noisiest Mom in a Baseball Stand. I have some competition for the title, though, I’ve noticed.
There are a lot of boys out there who will have hilariously humiliating stories to tell their great grandchildren someday after we’re gone.
Actually, I am pretty sure I am going to die suddenly of a heart attack. Probably tomorrow. Maybe tonight. It’s a family thing; there is a strong genetic likelihood.
One of the byproducts of having all kinds of heart disease in the family is a sense of urgency about this life.
In our family, we tend to live like we mean it.
Since this life happens quickly, as a young person I assumed that going for the gusto made sense. Looking back, going for the gusto was a lot like going down swinging but not as courageous.
Aging along side my parents has shifted my perspective.
Plus, my father-in-law graduated to eternity this year.
It seems my heart is more and more planted in the eternal while the rest of me is plopped down in the action here; in the temporal now-ness of the moment.
It can be rather distracting mentally. It takes discipline to focus attention on the moment when your heart is experiencing eternity.
Kind of like the kid in the outfield who always picks daisies, we need to be reminded to pay attention.
“Heads up!” Life is coming at you quickly. Live like you mean it.

Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives in beautiful East Texas where the boys of summer are ready for action. Comments are welcome at CaeKrafve2@aol.com.