From the Other Side of the Fence

Clare and I met up yesterday afternoon to watch her alma mater play.  It was a mostly sunny Saturday, with a biting wind only some of the time.  Through a scheduling quirk, it was Senior Day, even though Elmhurst’s softball season has a few more weeks to run.

 

I had my memories, and I’m sure Clare had hers.  Chris was there, too, so we all played a game of “Remember When” she did this on her senior day.  Julie, an old teammate, joined in the fun, saying how her dad “will ask me, ‘Do you remember that at-bat against Millikin, the count was 2-2,’ and I say, ‘No.’”  How could he forget, why would she want to remember?

It has to be a tossup as to which is worse, going through your own senior day or watching someone else’s.  I distinctly remember Clare doubling in two runs in her final college at-bat, to win the game against, yes, Millikin.  She remembers it, too, and who knows how much else she doesn’t tell me on a pleasant Saturday afternoon in April.  Boys play on, girls move on.  Fathers like me are left to remember all the games, with the counts and the final scores and hitting totals and temperatures…