Used to Be a Ballpark
I mowed my parents lawn yesterday. It's not a big deal - but a few acres of grass, ducking tree limbs, and catching the mower in a bit of mud - thanks Chuck for the push out.
Yet the thing about it was that as I mowed, I thought about all of the other times that I cut the grass on the same terrain, and a funny thing happened - I saw the home where I grew up with my five brothers and sisters, in a whole new light.
I thought about the mulberry tree where we would gather and try to break the record for the most mulberry's eaten in one handful. We were just kids, laughing with mulberry juice running down our faces.
I thought about the area where the sewer used to be - what was once high grass where the mower always got stuck - is now perfectly landscaped with trees perfectly spaced. There's no longer that smell.
In the backyard the old cars are gone - my father used to store old convertibles back there so he could recondition them in later years. He never actually worked on them, but one time my brother John and I filled a sack with food from the house to run away from home. We ate the food, John got stung by bee, and we ran back to my mother for first-aid. She didn't even mention the candy we "stole".
Finally, I thought about the old ball field where we would meet with friends and family after school. The bases were no longer cut out - grass had filled the worn-out spots - and the old plywood backstop was long gone. In the trick of all tricks, I could hear the screaming and laughter over the hum of the mower. I thought about my brother hitting a ball threw the living room window - quite a shot - but there was no glory as my father wanted to kill him.
"What a beautiful home," I said out loud. "What a wonderful way to grow up."
And what a treat to spend three hours mowing my parents lawn, reliving the cherished memories.
I hope and pray my kids have the chance to look back and remember and miss the good old days.
Yet the thing about it was that as I mowed, I thought about all of the other times that I cut the grass on the same terrain, and a funny thing happened - I saw the home where I grew up with my five brothers and sisters, in a whole new light.
I thought about the mulberry tree where we would gather and try to break the record for the most mulberry's eaten in one handful. We were just kids, laughing with mulberry juice running down our faces.
I thought about the area where the sewer used to be - what was once high grass where the mower always got stuck - is now perfectly landscaped with trees perfectly spaced. There's no longer that smell.
In the backyard the old cars are gone - my father used to store old convertibles back there so he could recondition them in later years. He never actually worked on them, but one time my brother John and I filled a sack with food from the house to run away from home. We ate the food, John got stung by bee, and we ran back to my mother for first-aid. She didn't even mention the candy we "stole".
Finally, I thought about the old ball field where we would meet with friends and family after school. The bases were no longer cut out - grass had filled the worn-out spots - and the old plywood backstop was long gone. In the trick of all tricks, I could hear the screaming and laughter over the hum of the mower. I thought about my brother hitting a ball threw the living room window - quite a shot - but there was no glory as my father wanted to kill him.
"What a beautiful home," I said out loud. "What a wonderful way to grow up."
And what a treat to spend three hours mowing my parents lawn, reliving the cherished memories.
I hope and pray my kids have the chance to look back and remember and miss the good old days.
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