Ted was caught mid-round in the rain at a course north of us. He came home, changed and headed west after checking out the radar. They weren't spared for long. His second attempt was cut short too. There was no third. His YOLO attitude didn't go unnoticed as he recounted the adventures of his day while he stripped in the kitchen. I want to be that fearless and free.
We lost power in the middle of the night. It was but a brief quietude that in which the absence of sound was almost jarring. It's so quiet it's loud. There really is no other way to describe it despite the fact it seems impossible to be both at once.
I walked into the family room this morning to find the strand of Christmas lights outlining the patio door in a blinking frenzy. I'd forgotten they were even there. Ted blamed the loss of power. Perhaps, a surge. I kept it to myself that I too believed they were ignited by energy, just not the kind we think we understand. I stood there watching them very much feeling there was a message I was meant to decipher in their modulation.
It was a good weekend celebrating fathers and softball. The weekend was rather consumed by a tournament. It's perfect really because my guy loves coaching the ladies. They love him too. He's the cool coach with lots of game cred and a new bag of seeds every time. After their well-earned win Friday night, he told me that victory had already made his weekend. They went 2 for 2 and kept us all entertained for 3 days. Even Teddy came to a couple games. I asked him to come with me Saturday and he agreed. We sat like lone soldiers in foul territory along the third base line and he protected us from ill-timed hits. He talked incessantly about wanting to just have one at bat. Then he got up at one point to give his little sister some batting advise. All the ladies turned their attention on him as he approached the dugout. It made me chuckle. Without suggestion or demand, he showed up again for Sunday's sweltering game after a round of golf. I think he misses his baseball days just a little. He's not alone.
It was a family weekend. The best kind. Both sets of grandparents and my brother and sil showed up for games. My in-laws then joined us for a celebratory Father's Day lunch after Saturday's victory. After a loss Sunday, we hosted again. I made choriqueso, which is a favorite of my dad's. The guys played crib and then we grilled burgers and dogs. We lingered around the table playing a family game of meme that had us all in fits of laughter. It was a mostly good day. My dad was last to leave. He insisted on doing the dishes. Even the plastic plates I used because they were throw away. He was definitely channeling his inner Rosie. My grandmother was notorious for saving everything. I must admit that the time we spent tidying the kitchen was the closest I felt to him all day. Things are finally healing and for that I'm grateful. After my dad sped off into the night in his cute convertible (which, of course, reminds me of my mom), we gave the dad of our house his gifts. Lily picked out a trio of hot pepper plants and a month's supply of seeds. Ted gave him a Brewer's shirt and then invited him to a game - tix. on Ted. I gave him a golf shirt and shorts. He was properly revered for all that he is and does for this family.
The house was tuckered out after a weekend of early mornings and long steamy days so everyone tucked in as soon as they could. I sat in the dark processing the day. I find myself doing this more and more, and I'm not so sure it does any good to pick things apart, but it's the way I make peace so that I too can sleep soundly. I have to sit with my feelings to temper them and put them to rest.
Teddy's in a tournament today. It's cold and rainy. Not ideal conditions, but he'll weather the storm. I'm getting better and better at doing that too.
There are always bright spots. I'll leave you with just a few.
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