Dedicated to my little cousin Brianna. Keep running girl ;)
The Bases of Life
Morning smiles given to me by my newborn child, innocent I know it. Born to me a life, a life of amazing innocence and sweet surrender. It's winter time and all is cold and dead, dead and cold. Except for the eyes of innocence. The sweetness of those eyes, if only you knew what they bring me.
Innocence, oh how I would long to have that back. If I could only go back to that moment many times ago that my innocence was stolen. Not once, but again and again. Taken as easily as the winds flow breaks off dead leaves in the cold of winter. With no conscious at hand, no thought of mind. The wind strips the trees bare leaving them cold, alone, and barren. Barren. Damn. That word can be so cold depending on how you choose to use it. It can sting and slice you through as a warm knife does to cold ice cream cake. Cake, when I think of it I think of happy things. Again I see sweet innocence and warm smiles running around waiting for their little friend to blow out the candles. Their eyes bright with excitement the whole time, over such little things, but to them the excitement is palpable and amazement is ever present. Little things, it's always the little things I'm afraid I will miss.
Miss – an emotion or object to greatly want back; a feeling of great need for something; a woman not yet of marriage. If that can even begin to describe what I'm going through. If only. If so then I miss; wild goose chases, corny jokes, our arguments, being told not to drive a convertible while I'm on vacation, long stakeouts. Okay, maybe not all the stakeouts just the long ones with you. You. God, I miss you. I only wish you were here to see this beautiful gift of innocence. So beautiful, yet I'm the only one here in this lonely place to see it. I have so much to share, but no one to share it with. Out of everything I've seen and chosen not to believe in, I want to believe so hard this sweet piece of innocence will somehow bring you back to me.
I hear the wind blow outside and watch as more trees get robbed of their innocence, now barren as I once was. As I see the sun come out, I'm reminded of a long lost friend and a promise we shared with each other a time ago. The sun is a rare site for time in D.C with it the sun brings hope and happiness. I decide to take a walk to the park and bundle up my sweet child and lay him in the stroller as we head out the door.
We walk for about a block until we come upon about twelve eleven to thirteen year old boys and one girl around six I've seen them before, they live in the area. A close group of friends that like to come out here to play. Today's game is baseball. I decide to watch these childhood memory take place. So, we find a bench and sit. My baby stirs in his stroller. I take him out and hold him to my chest. He settles and our presence goes on unnoticed as does much these days.
They begin to play and the girl watches longing to play her eyes bright with hope, but much too young to hold the bat. Yet, her eyes never fail to light up whenever the ball is hit hard and goes out. The reason being is she gets to run out and get it. As she is doing so one of the oldest boys runs up to her. I figured it's her older brother and he has come to tell her to butt out, this is their game. It's what my brothers always use to say to me. Yet, the boy takes her hand, calls a time out and leads her up to the plate. Her eyes are gleaming the whole way in anticipation. He gives her the bat and helps her hold it by kneeling down beside her and helps her direct her swing by holding the bat from behind her. A memory stirs in me and a single tear finds its way down my cheek. What that boy just did to the stranger watching him he will never know. As I said before it's the simple things I miss, the little things.
I smile when the boy nods and the pitcher throws. They swing as partners and hit a home run. Then they run the bases, but as they get to third the boy picks her up and keeps running, carrying her home. The other boys are clapping letting them both make it home to safety. The little girl is smiling and laughing the whole way.
Watching the little girl smile I think of her and her childhood memory she will one day cherish. Then I picture myself and my situation. I close my eyes a moment and see the little girl smiling and laughing as she makes it home. Only this time it's not the little girl with long brown hair running home, but a freckled faced red headed girl around the same age. I try to make sense of what I see and know immediately I've placed myself in the little brunette's position. To a safer and better time in my life when I had someone to run the bases with me home, home to safety.
Suddenly, the little freckled faced girl is grown and I see myself walk up to Mulder and ask him what I'm doing out here. He has never remembered my birthday. I watch with closed eyes as Mulder calls me over to him and asks me if I've ever played baseball? I lie and tell him I had better things to do with my time. I knew he just wanted to help me swing the bat. We swing and I laugh and my eyes light up as bright as the little brown haired girl that ran the bases only moments ago. That moment playing baseball with you was the best very early, very late birthday present ever.
William stirs and I'm drawn back to reality. If only you could come home safely so we could once again run the bases of life together as partners. If only.