Back and forth, back and forth, the ball was going as we engaged in our game of 'catch', me being somewhat inexperienced, he being rather experienced. I was probably about eight or nine years old, my brother and partner in this game of catch around twenty three of twenty four. We were occupying some spare time on the farm where we lived & where we often took part in outside activities like kicking around a soccer ball or donning our gloves to play catch with the baseball. On this particular day the sun shone, the cows were out in the field, the pigs were wallowing in their muck, the horses meandered in the pasture, the chickens scurried about the yard, the dog lay on the doorstep, the ducks waddled around and life was good as we threw the ball to each other, laughing and enjoying the day. As I played catch with one brother, the other brother was inside (probably rolling some cigarettes) and my mom was also inside the house doing laundry I think. We had the playing field to ourselves.......none of the animals were in range or needed to fear our game. I readied to return the ball to my brother, making a big production of the wind up, getting into the proper stance, then proceeded to deliver the pitch. Just as I was set to throw someone walked into the path the ball would take; I noticed too late; the ball had left my hand; it headed straight for its target (my brother's glove) but was intercepted by a body. It was my mom.......and the ball hit her right square on the side of the head......whap!
Oh good grief. I couldn't believe what I had just done! She staggered and cried "Oh catch me" as she was going down. My brother caught her and lowered her gently to the ground. I had knocked her out cold with the baseball! She came around & my two brothers took her inside the house to sit down in a chair. As all of this unfolded I began to cry. I was unconsolable. My brother tried to tell me that mom was going to be all right but I was hearing nothing & continued to wale. They all tried to talk to me but I was in no way receptive to hearing any of their words; I was just in distress over what I had done.
Eventually I calmed down (seems like it took forever to be able to stop crying) & I talked to my mom and she assured me she was ok and life went on.
There are many days, times, occasions & happenings I will remember always, this one among them; I shall never ever forget the day I hit my mom in the head with a baseball.
1 comment:
I am wondering if there is something that might trigger that memory to return or is it one that is so embedded that it lingers always?
We've been asked to present a writing workshop on writing memoirs, so this memory retrieval is interesting and will be part of our presentation. I hope a hit on the head is not the answer, though. :)
Post a Comment