Playin' Catch

PLAYIN' CATCH Mom and Dad would have the car packed the night before we left, the station wagon filled with all the essentials we'd need for our extended camping trips. Dad always made sure I had my ball glove ready for rest stop breaks. This was my favorite anticipated time of the trip!... when we would stop, Dad would tell me to grab my glove, but I was already out the door, lookin' for a clear stretch of grass to throw with him. Dad had the same glove all through the years, an old, beat up version that didn't have much padding. I used whatever glove I was currently using for the team I was playing on, either a present from him, or a gift, sometimes from a coach. Dad wanted me to start throwin' easy, as his eyesight wasn't all that sharp, and he needed to limber-up first, and focus on the 'heat!' I was tossin'. I remember he would always encourage and compliment me on my improvement since the last time we threw!. Our trip out west, "Custer's Last Stand"...Yellowstone National Park".... our trips to "Itasca State Park" and "Tettegouche State Park" always settin' aside time to "play-catch". In time, Dad couldn't follow the thrown ball very good, and I remember when he told me he couldn't "play-catch" any more; by then I was playin' varsity ball in high school, and Dad would come watch me play. I always still brought his old glove and favorite 'rubber-coated' baseball along on outings, so he wouldn't think I didn't remember he was still my hero, whether he could throw or not. I treasure those moments now, and always try to 'play-catch' with the little cousins of mine, encourage and compliment them on their improvement, .......since the last time we 'played-catch' l