Mom Loves Baseball

Mom loves baseball. She enjoys most sports, in fact. She is the one who taught me how to play basketball. She would challenge me one-on-one in the alley on the hoop a few doors down or whoop me repeatedly in games of H-O-R-S-E. But mom has a special relationship with baseball, especially the St. Louis Cardinals.

Me, mom, & dad at a game 2 years ago.

"My grandparents were huge Cardinal fans," mom shared. "Anytime they were playing, we had the radio on. We would sit in the yard with a bucket of beer and listen to the game."

My almost 80-year-old mom has been listening to or watching the Cardinals her whole life and now, she is just as dedicated and loyal as her grandparents. It really upsets her if anyone tries to assassinate the character of her team. She would never say anything bad about them.

Mom and dad walking to their seats at the
baseball hall of fame induction ceremony.

Her favorite players are Adam Wainwright and Yadier Molina, mostly because she no longer recognizes the guys on the team. Even if they have been on the team a few years, she can't remember them. During today's game, she repeatedly said, "I've never heard of that guy" even though they both had been on the team for a while. The grief that comes with her Alzheimers is directly related to her inability to remember recent events, people, etc. The joy, however, comes in her ability to remember stories from her childhood that we have never before heard.

The family at a game in the bleachers
a few years ago.

She loves watching sports because, while the rest of us might be looking at records and standings, mom doesn't have to remember what happened last game in order to enjoy the current game. It's also relatively easy for the rest of us because she knows how the game works, she understands the rules and she doesn't ask a lot of questions, aside from, "who is this guy?"

Today she made a request. She wants to sit in the "green seats" at Busch. She wants to eat in the dining area and sit in the expensive seats and have somebody wait on her. There is no way I can afford that on my teacher salary. I can barely afford groceries. But I told her yes. ABSOLUTELY. If I have to drive 12 hours shifts for Uber to make it happen I will. I want to give her that experience just once. It is the least I can do.

Turn Back Time

So many days, I wish I could turn back time. Often it's for obvious reasons like "I'm getting older and haven't done some of the things I really hoped to do in life." But most days, it's because I am afraid of what comes next.

Within the last few months, I have grown acutely aware of the circle of life as I have watched my parents deteriorate in areas we do not often consider. My compassion for old people has broadened tremendously and I believe now, more than ever, that everything is truly preparation for something later on down the road.

Arthritis cripples mom's hands while Alzheimer's paralyzes parts of her brain. Her crooked fingers, no longer able to grasp many objects, fail her as she clings to the pickle jar. She wants pickles even though it's not yet 10 o'clock in the morning. She navigates the kitchen as if she is 6 feet wide. Short, awkward steps designed to usher her around a begging dog on the floor beneath her.

"Mom," I stop her. "You have plenty of room to get through. You are not that wide and your feet are not that big. Just walk. The dog will move."

She doesn't believe me and continues to shuffle sideways past the dog and to the table. She plops down onto the wooden chair that shifts slightly, almost dropping her on the floor. Dad watches without comment, without assistance. He ignores her struggles. Just like every other day.

I have always gotten easily frustrated with my dad. Even more so now. "Help her!" I yell at him sometimes. But he is afraid of falling so he sits nearly all day every day. He moves from the couch to the bathroom to the kitchen to the couch. He is so afraid he will fall and break a hip and never come home. He is losing feeling in his feet and can barely carry them around any more. He rarely wears shoes. (I can relate. I have no feeling in my left foot and most of my left leg. So I feel vulnerable at times too.)

I just wish we could go back ten years. Get them on a regular exercise plan. Help them to eat healthier. Be better prepared for the difficulties life throws at us now. And yet, I don't make time to do those things for myself because I am too busy cooking for them, cleaning for them, and making their days as simple as possible.

I also wish I had a partner, a friend, a spouse to walk through all this with me. But, alas, another thing I forgot to make time for... If only we could turn back time.