10.9.8.

having finally mailed off the BOX for him has gotten me in a bit of a funk. going through all the memories that my parents saved of his, the newspaper clippings, the photos, the letters, just sort of made me long to be 10 again. 

i remember having friends and playing all the time. we had a small swimming pool in the back yard. i miss that yard. we would swim until we were cold, then go out front and lay on the hot black pavement of the driveway on our towels until we were so hot we thought were were baking....then back into the pool again.   i remember bike rides and day long trips. i especially remember one time the Herd went to the experimental farm on our bikes. must have been 12 of us at least. the cromwell gang we called ourselves. on this particular trip we had locked all of our bikes and l's bike was locked in the middle because it was a brand new CCM TARGA 10. it was the coolest thing....and off we went to explore the cattle barns, the exhibits, and go for a ride on the tour wagon with the big horses, billy jim and flash.  about 2 hrs later, we were returning to our pile of bikes, when we saw 2 older kids double riding fast to get away.....on l's brand new bike. we chased after them but they were gone. her dad had the bike insured, but it was not the same. all the locks were broken, they knew what they were after....CCM TARGA 10. 

10. winter. still more fun. sliding, skating, cross country skiing, building snow forts, just all the great things that i have to wonder if kids even do anymore with the advent of computers and video games. (oh yes, Atari came out with pong that year). i used to love going sliding. that year i had a pair of Super Slider Snow Skates, and they were just the coolest. crazy carpets were also really taking off. there was a great sliding hill just behind our home. all the kids went there. sometimes, we even went to the big hill over at mooney's bay. oh to be ten again. 

 10. that has to be about my favorite age ever. not a care in the world. get up, breakfast was ready, clean clothes to put on, a hug from mom and i was on my way for the day. school was good that year, too. mrs.R was my absolute favorite teacher ever. she just had that way about her....you know? made you feel like you were the only kid in her class. in those days, a teacher could actually kneel down beside you, or put an arm around your shoulder if you were having a bad day. and it was not just me who felt that way....having spoken with others over the years, they all said the same thing, to use a phrase i hear often now-a-days...mrs.R rocked!

8. was a big year in our house. he signed with the ball club and was on his way to being a pro. spring training in florida. and we went not one year but two years in a row to watch and applaud and offer support. i still have the baseball signed by all the guys on the team. some made it to the big leagues, others did not. but i have the signatures of the guys just the same.   in that BOX of memories that my parents had saved, were season programs, photographs and letters. of another time, another era, another life.   the newspaper clippings brought back the most memories for me. as i read each article about him, my heart swelled with pride. because i remember when the reporters came to our home to do those first interviews. i watched from the hallway, as they talked and the tape recorder squealed and the man took notes. and the photos, bright flashes. i remember looking over to my dad and his eyes held a tear of pride and such joy. same with mom.   i remember these times, as though they occurred yesterday. (sometimes it is not in my best interest to have such a good memory). i remember him coming home after training, and that little red car he had...he would drive me to school sometimes. my friends thought it was so cool that he was a ball player. so did i. and i was so proud to say, "yes that is my brother, and he is going to be a pro one day". 

i wish that i could be 10 again, just for a little while. to feel that love and that pride again for him. 


alas, i cannot be 10 again, and too much time has passed now. the ten year old me grieves many losses, and eventually there will be more loss, but i will be ok. (with counselling) (just kidding, kinda).

make today GREAT~ poet.