Still Just a Little Boy

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I am definitely in the spot where waiting for Santa to slide down the chimney is becoming almost ridiculous. You remember those nights when you were a kid, right, when the idea of what was going to happen was too overwhelming to allow you to get a decent night of rest?

I still sort of feel that way on Christmas morning, but only because I know how much fun my kids are going to have.

Right now, I'm just a little boy, waiting for something great to happen.

The hot pepper contest is later this afternoon. The funny thing about the first time we did this was that I wanted no part of making peppers. Jeff made mine. He dropped everything off at the house. I stuffed them and brought them and everyone marveled at how good they were.

He never spilled the beans.

The above photo shows John and I close as we only assisted Pops in getting the peppers ready for the softball tourney. We cored over 400 peppers (thank you Larry Bowman) and as we went about the task the jokes were flying. The work was done quickly. I couldn't help but think of all the days when I'd stand next to John as Dad told us what to do.

At 46, there are moments when you still feel like a child.

Then tomorrow we have the softball tourney. So many beautiful gifts being offered by a community of friends and family. A couple of beautiful signed hats by Jim Kelly.

As a teenager Jim was the hero for the town. He led us to 4 Super Bowls. By far he was my favorite of all the Bills players. Yesterday we talked about my brother. His wife Jill was happy to help out. A good friend.

And I thought of the sense of community. A couple of signed hats, a group of friends who've spent hours putting a basket together. From girls I knew in the 2nd grade onto college buddies, 40-year friends, sisters, brothers, cousins, great companies who hired me! (Thanks Thomas Johnson!).

My God is it any wonder that your heart overflows.

Mom and Dad were always understandably tired on Christmas Eve, after midnight mass, after all the preparing and cooking, and cleaning.

"What time can we get up?" we used to ask.

"No presents are opened until 7 o'clock," we'd hear.

It's so cool when you can open presents every single day.

Thank you to all!

This post is dedicated to Jan Mathis, Jeff Popple, Kim Kurek, Larry Bowman, my brothers and sisters, and the hundreds of others who are going to make the softball tourney a day of wonder and awe for a husky, balding, limping little boy.

Comments

deafjeff said…
I've loved you Fuzzy's for pushing 40 years now. Whatever needs to be done, is done.
13 August, 2011
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