Last night, July 6, 2012 at Fenway Park, a torch was passed! It is a significant event when a tradition is carried on and passed to another generation of Americans. And in this case it is very specific Americans. My Americans.
My eldest offspring, who lives in Florida, took her two boys to Fenway last night for the first game of this Sox/Yankees series. Jake, the oldest, has been there before but as a little, little scruffer, it was Brady’s first visit, his lobstah’s too.
The trip to Fenway culminated a week that saw them drive from Florida and take in a bit of America along the way, as Mom recreated a drive she made a few times as a kid.
“Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River”
Joining the Union cause at Gettysburg.
The week included:
Trips to the beach.
Just hanging out with the cousins.
And of course poolside at Auntie Nancy’s, the site of decades of so many joyous moments.
Last year my oldest granddaughter made her inaugural visit to Fenway and now three of the five grandkids have made the trip.
The other two will get there soon, as they have not quite yet come of age.
In this digital, electronic age, I was able to share part of the evening right from my chair on Florida’s Gulf Coast, as text messages and photos kept me abreast of the activities from the third base grandstands. The evening brought a wide smile through the glistening of a tear.
It is bittersweet for as I watch this unfold I long for just one more ball game with the leader of the band. Just one more; and in the inescapable reality that the bottom of my hour-glass is filling, all too rapidly I might add, I still see all that could be, if only. And in my approaching winter each “if only” brings a longing for the sweet breath of Spring, more Summer in the sun and glorious, golden Falls.
Yet there is a true joy in seeing and knowing that what you wanted to pass on as important, is passed on as important. Even in the triviality of a game, a team, an event, a place! It’s not about baseball really, it’s about relationships, it’s always about relationships. And Fenway has been the stage where literally hundreds of millions of relationships have been born, lived, been shared and died.
Last night two more were born and somewhere in the whisper of the Fenway breeze or perhaps in the roar of the crowd, the leader is smiling and I am remembering…….
remembering the sweet, sweet breath of Spring…………………..If only.
And so it is on this day in Fenway Park history, July 7, 2012.