On Sunday evening we went to the baseball game. I am a baseball fan and really enjoy the pace and art of the game. I know a lot of people say those are the things that are destroying the game. It's too slow, not enough action is often heard but to sit and watch the game, think about the strategy and try to match wits with the managers as they make changes or not is the thing I love about the game. Plus where else do you get to yell as loud as you can at someone that is having a ball thrown at him over 90 mph, not golf or tennis that's for sure.
We live in KC so there are a couple of choices when we take in a game. Of course we have the Kansas City Royals but close to where we live we also have the Kansas City T-Bones, a minor league independent team playing in the Northern League. I actually enjoy greatly going to their games. Tickets and concessions are very cheap and parking is free, makes for a night of baseball plus concessions for under $15 and those are tickets sitting in the front row next to the field, traditional hot dogs are only $1. In all my life of attending baseball games, we know baseball is about traditions, I have eaten at least one hot dog at every single game I have ever attended. No way am I breaking that streak.
It was our son's girlfriends birthday so we treated them to an evening at The Park. By both of their accounts our son has been clean for over a week. There were sparks of normalcy enjoying our evening out. They enjoyed going and we enjoyed observing our son unaltered.
It would be so easy to jump up and down shouting, "We're on the road now." But we've been down this road before. But for me this time I feel lost. I feel lost because I'm not on the road any more. This recovery road is not my road to travel, it is his. I always thought I had to be driving when we took that route but this time I got out of the car and it is his time to circle the track day after day. I am going to stand on the side and cheer after each lap/day but no more driving for me.
Knowing my control personality Mom is probably in the worst spot. She is the one that will hear all my criticisms about the way he is circling the track but I hope to be able to learn skills about tempering my excitement and critisism as he makes laps. There was a book I read when I was little and I read it to my kids too, that might be right for now; Go Dog Go, P. D. Eastman.