basketball

"It was a January Saturday morning, cold and bright. Darkness would arrive before supper, but the morning was brilliant, reflected sunshine off snow. Basketball season had arrived, so to the gym we went.

My son was given a ball and sent into the herd. I found a spot on the bleachers and sat down with my newspaper to enjoy the peace—nobody asking me for Yo-J, or to put tights on a Barbie, to fix the VCR, or type anything—just a quiet spot on a bench.

The leader of the pack arrived and took charge as I read the editorials. When I looked up moments later it was a vision, a sea of six year olds bouncing big orange balls, shiny wooden floor stretching out wide. Sunshine streamed through checkered windows near the ceiling.

“Left hand!” Blonk, Blonk, Blonk, “Right hand!” Blonk, Blonk, “Now switch!!” Blonk, Blonk. All the laughter, missing teeth, too-long t-shirts made me laugh out loud, and put down my paper. For years I been doin’ this mommy thing, and mornings don’t come any finer than this: golden shiny floors, cute kids, and bouncing basketballs in beams of yellow sunshine."

I wrote that a long time ago, but this morning at kiddy basketball, there it was again, just the same.

A few years ago Tim asked me, "Are there any sports what me and Julia can play?" They were standing by the dryer in the kitchen, and he had his arm around her shoulders. She was little-bitty, wearing only a diaper and socks, and he wasn't very big either. I said I didn't think so. What did he have in mind? He said, "Me and Julia want to play football."

Oh, yeah.


But today really was Julia's first morning at a sign-up sport, and she was soooo excited. (What doesn't excite six year old girls, I guess.) She shrieked and ran to get ready when I told her about it, and when we got there, her eyes were huge when they handed her a t-shirt to put on and told her to grab a ball. And the grin, the huge happy smile never left the whole time she ran up and down, trying to play.

Heidi and Joe are at their house unpacking. What a great Saturday. love, Val