Just an old glove ...

A trip through the basement is usually a fun time. I generally go down there for one thing and end up getting distracted by another thing. You just never know what you are going to find down there. Even though, our basement is pretty clean, you can find any number of interesting artifacts down there. I stood in front of an old socket wrench set. It was my first and only socket wrench set. Its older than my kids!
We all have our aged items that are full of sentimental value. Somewhere down there is an old Flexible Flyer sled that I got when I was 5 or 6 years old. Maybe that one is in the garage. I got it one particularly warm and dry Christmas and waited ... forever ... for it to snow so I could use it. Sure, I dragged it across the pavement to scrape the paint from the bottom. That was just step one. Each of us used varying kinds of candles so we could wax up the bottoms of our sleds. After a good snowfall, it seemed to take all day to get the snow packed where one of those Flexible Flyers would go fast enough down the hill. Theories abounded about the amount and kind of wax to maximize speed. Oh Rosebud!
These things in the basement are precious to me but probably not to anyone else. Certainly, value is in the eye of the beholder when you are exploring the basement. I was in the basement a few weeks ago when I came across my old softball glove. That glove moved from Somerville, MA, to Bellingham, MA, to Oak Hill, VA to Hawaii Kai, HI and now to Bedford NH. It has had quite series of moves and I wondered why I had bothered to keep it around. After all, it is just an old glove ... isn't it?
I got that glove when I was 19 years old. As of this writing, the old thing must be 35 years old. Is that right? 1978 ... and this is 2013 ... so, yep it is 35 years old this summer! It still had a softball and it fit nice in my hand. I tossed the ball around and was surprised to see that the leather threading didn't just fall into dust. I wanted a good glove so as I looked at the gloves and tried them on, this one struck me as a perfect fit but the price was a shocker, but I bought it anyway. I played catcher in slow-pitch games, high arc games, and my favorite was the fast-pitch games. Dad was the pitcher for most slow-pitch and high arc games but then we got Joe to pitch fast-pitch. He threw so hard that my hand swelled up until I made a glove insert for extra padding.

The glove was there when Kenny decided to try his hand at pitching. I don't remember the score but it was near the end of the game and a runner was on 3rd base eager to get home. The pitch was wild (or may be I missed it?) and it went to the backstop. I dashed to get it and upon turning realized that with the runner trying to steal home, I had a choice, throw the ball to Kenny who was also running toward home or dive to tag the runner out. Any time you throw the ball, you have the chance of a miscue ... so I dove. With my body horizontal, I tagged the runner out but due to my momentum, my body swung around and took Kenny out at his knees. I'd never seen him in such pain as his knee popped out of the socket ... Kenny looked up, "Was he out?"
Kathy was always supportive of me playing softball and basketball. We had talked about getting married and she described the type of ring she wanted. I found what she wanted and selected it from a downtown jewelers. Of course, they had to size it and set the stone on the ring. Dad was able to pick it up from work before one of our games. It "burned a hole in his pocket" throughout the game and he finally could hold it no more and tossed and I caught it with my glove when Kathy wasn't looking. I walked with her up Gerry Street, I paused ... unsure what to say. Here was the woman of my dreams and I wanted her to be the woman of the rest of my life.. Unfortunately, I was standing in a complete (shirt, pants, and leggings) softball uniform. In fact, it had been a particularly dirty day playing catcher and I was a mess ... sweaty, dirty, and having just consumed unhealthy amounts of pizza and beer!
But I couldn't wait for us to start down the path of our journey together!
I turned to her and knelt down holding out the glove. In the pocket of the glove sat a black box and within that, an engagement ring of blue sapphire and diamonds. "Will you marry me?" I asked and she smiled and and said "Yes."
Simple and to the point. I put the ring on her finger and she kissed my dirty, sweaty, pizza-covered face. If she could accept me like that, we were bound for a splendid marriage ... and it has been ... oh so much more than splendid.

On August 22, 2013, we will have been married 32 years and every day I'm glad she said "yes."