Play Ball!
This girl.
She has my heart.
Ever since she was born, she’s the one I felt called to keep close.
If I could have bubble wrapped her and carried her around with me, without getting weird looks, I probably would have.
All that to say, watching her out on the field with girls that have cannons for arms and pitch stupidly fast is hard for me. Like, take a deep breath and hold it, kind of hard.
Embry always seemed inclined to softball - natural swing and throw- but she never wanted to play on a team.
We couldn’t understand why since it seemed like a natural fit and she’d just shrug us off in her Embry way.
Turns out, she was terrified of getting hurt. Of getting hit by a ball.
Sweet girl. I get it. I was terrified of that too when I played.
But I signed her up anyway, knowing that she’d love it once she was out there, and now here I am watching my baby girl on the field looking so small and the ball going so fast and I can’t help but second guess my decision.
“That’s my baby out there. Go easy on her.” That’s what’s screaming inside my head.
But then I see her with her chin up, glove up, and smiling. She’s loving it. She’s in her element.
And that’s when I know she’s where she’s suppose to be, my fears be darned.
It’s sweet how God uses our children to heal some of our own childhood wounds.
I’m grateful for the insights He gives me and the gentleness in which He does it.
Yes, I am worried for her, what mom wouldn’t be? Those pitches are fast and the hits are hard, but she’s going to be okay and she can handle it.
What’s really going on, I realize, is that I am projecting my old fears from when I played onto her.
I don’t want her to be like me, to play like me, to be scared like me.
I’m embarrassed of the girl and player I was and want to shake the crap out of that little girl and make her someone she just wasn’t, but who I told her she should be.
I wouldn’t in a million years treat my sweet Embry like that, so why in the world would I treat the little me like that?
So with God’s goodness, He is giving me a new lens in which to view my past. Watching Embry play, I see why I had the fears I had and am able to forgive that little girl who always felt a little less than for not coming out on the field and crushing it like some of the other girls.
That instinct wasn’t in me.
I was happy singing Michael Jackson songs in the outfield and dancing on the tip of my toes.
Until I got better, at least…Then I wanted to be in the infield and had pride when pitching or playing 3rd.
I have empathy for Embry when she tells me how terrified she is in the batter’s box and remind her she won just for getting in it. She faced a fear and that’s a big deal.
And now I can tell the little Cathleen the same thing. Allison Brown was an incredibly intimidating pitcher, just one of many! You batted against girls ranked in the top 10 in the State! No wonder you were scared!
Despite my fears, my memories of those years playing are insanely positive. Watching Embry play, though, is bringing a fuller understanding of those years, a deeper richness.
I can finally forgive the little Cathleen and the grown up Cathleen can put those old voices of shame and regret to bed and not pass them on to her daughters or son. There is no need for embarrassment.
The nostalgia of that time spent out on the field, the life lessons and valuable skills learned, the friendships made, the cheers yelled, and the laughter filled dugouts - those are what remain in my memories and what I pray are to come for my sweet girl.
Baby C-Gulls in 1989.
So my prayer for tonight’s game is that my baby girl doesn’t get hit by a ball, that she gets on base, and that she catches anything that comes her way. You know, the functional stuff. But more importantly, I pray that she loves being on the field and takes in the moments. That she makes lifelong friends and memories, That she breathes in the summer air and field lights and basks in knowing her biggest cheerleader is in the stands rooting for her, waiting to give her a big hug and tell her how proud she is of her.
And maybe, just maybe, one day Embry will be in her 40’s watching her daughter play and texts friends she played with, just like I did, to say, “Remember what an amazing time we had together? Wasn’t it the best?”
The 2 girls I texted at Embry's first practice, pictured in our second season together. Alyson, Lindsay, and me!
