The other day I realized I had to seek pain relief that I could not attain on my own. I usually figure out how and why, ergo the physiology of why I might be pained or feeling lousy and such. I surmised that I’d driven near 800 miles in under seventy hours. Which approximately 95% of the driving had been in the rain. And as Dolores, the retired detective I had visited after visiting our youngest daughter at college said, “Driving in the rain is taxing.” She would know. She’d been around the block more than once at age 94. Putting many decades in as a law enforcement official whilst raising two daughters as a single mother. Dolores still had such incredible energy as she and I had a near three course meal together for four hours that night, shutting down a Greek restaurant after ten in the evening. And still chatting as we left the empty restaurant and walked out to my parked car. Just days later I knew the surgical site I’d battled the most with for over thirty years daily was screamin...
Javelin and Playing Ladies Softball “Wait, you’re on a softball team?” Mr. Clancy nearly spit out the gum he was chewing as he’d scoffed. I replied, “Well. Yeah. It’s a ladies softball team for our town. I started playing with them in seventh grade. I’m their pitcher. It’s like once a week.” Mr. Clancy’s comment came as a trove of big girls showed up one afternoon in March 1979 to try out for the new girl’s javelin throwing team. There was a plethora of girls trying out. They were robust. People who I knew who were considered ultimate jocks were already acting as though they’d made the team. I hoped to be a spoiler and capture one of the three spots on the girl’s javelin team that day. The test was two throws of a softball. Whoever threw the furthest in the top three throws, was on the team. There were at least 20 girls there. Some I’d never recognized. I saw Yvonne and Joy. They were two of our girl’s top three basketball team members. I...