Anyeong Hee Gaseyo (Goodbye, you are leaving!)

08 Sunday Sep 2013

Dear Summer,

I know you don’t want to go, and believe me, I’d go wherever you’re going if I could, but it’s time to say goodbye.

Seriously. Stop being so wonderful. You should go. I’m sure there are things I should be doing instead of enjoying your sunny, fun company; responsible things like grading this pile of Reading Responses and making a very dry lesson on Study Skills somehow engaging. I know, it’s the stuff I live for. But you don’t. So go. Go be Summer somewhere else.

We’ve had an indelible, beautiful time June, July, August – all three of you; and although in a year I will see you again, we both know it won’t be the same.

What with Garrett entering high school and Luke embarking on middle school, Natalie headed to third grade, my time with them is, at best, limited. It might happen that next year brings another fun-filled family-centered 10 weeks, with 3 kids who still want to spend time with us, chucking around a frisbee, mastering handstands underwater, racing to first base in kickball, racing to the bottom of a waterslide, racing for the best seat on the couch, snuggled up around the campfire.

But then again, maybe it won’t.

And in case it doesn’t, I write to say thank you, Summer, I am grateful for these gifts you gave me.

The days we spent in Island Falls at the lake.

The days we spent at the baseball fields.

Our day in Boston making dreams come true.

…and the fun we had at the dam near our camp in Mayfield. Luke announced “let’s go take some dam pictures!”

The day we hosted our neighbor Jimmy’s concert.

The time we spent nursing this little bird back to health (at our rented cabin in Sebago.)

Sharing a lobster dinner with our good friend Paul (Sebago Lake).

The day she turned 8.

The day he turned 14.

The day they happily posed for photos (at camp in Mayfield).

Having fun on “Badass,” our savvy boat (Island Falls).

…and being carefree. It was the best summer of my life.

Because of these little people, it was the very best summer of my life.

Under the Budweiser Sign

22 Thursday Aug 2013

Posted by Vicki Hamlin in Family Ties, Pride and Joy, Stuff I Want to Tell You About

≈ 2 Comments

Itty bitty slice of heaven right there.

I’d never even noticed the tables before, in the hundreds of games I’ve watched on NESN. But we got incredibly lucky with table seats for a Blue Jays/Red Sox game in late June. Not only were they at a roomy table – with a great view – but included food and all the beer we could drink, which, forgive me brave Budweiser fans, was one. One beer. Which I didn’t even really want because it was 52 degrees. And raining.

Gray skies. Wet chairs.

It could have been hailing cat urine from the sky and I still might have been the happiest momma on earth, though, sitting there with the boys, enjoying bites of pretzels, popcorn, hot dogs, cotton candy, ice cream, and sausage hoozawatsis with peppers and onions. I ordered nothing. And yet, was not hungry when we left the park. Huh.

Yes, friends, the table had four chairs. No, we did not stuff Natalie in a duffel bag and sneak her in, though the thought crossed my mind. Yes, she was bummed to miss it. We added to the list of things to tell her therapist in 2025.

Great life message. Things move along quite nicely if you’re not a bag.

Listen. I have not been to a live Red Sox game since I was 22 years old. I didn’t have great memories. It was horrendously hot that August afternoon. I was with an ex-boyfriend. Not a boy who became an ex. One who already was one. (I know, WTH?) I think I even witnessed a fist fight – but that might be a mixing of memories from a trip when I was about 9. Not the stuff of memoirs, really.

But I’m telling you, I love Fenway Park as I do my own living room, which, of course, is where I watch most of the games. Now that the kids are older, and we watch a lot of baseball together, I have discovered I am more than a fair-weather fan. Sometimes I even find myself screaming at the television, especially if we’ve left, say, 11 runners on base by the 3rd inning.

Or, to be more accurate; I don’t so much find myself doing that as listening to Guy tell me to STOP DOING THAT. To which I later have to explain See? That is the reason we LOST. THE. GAME.

Which did not happen here. No losing on this lucky night in June. Because guess who pitched? My faaaaavorite, ~~delicious,~~ very talented player: Jon Lester. Mmmm hhmmm.

Eyes off. He’s ~~mine~~ married.

Why I’m telling you about this trip – besides highlighting an awesome bit of our summer? Is this: I discovered that Garrett still believes he’s going to make it to the Big Leagues.

During the game, he analyzed not strategy, not base running, not hitting stance, not coaching technique. He said, “when I’m out there on the team, I’m going to be one of those guys who chats up the other team. I’m gonna be that guy.”

To which, we all nodded, like that made perfect sense.

If, on a one in a bakazillion chance that my son does become a Red Sock (a Red Sox?), a player, I can tell you exactly where the other four of us will be sitting.

Maybe they’ll let the mom of the center fielder bring in some decent beer!