Catch this

Have you ever seen the movie, "Field of Dreams"? What kind of son wouldn't want to have a catch with his dad? Well, there are some, but that is a story for another day. If you were at our house, you better have had your glove nearby, because there was always a chance to play catch.

Growing up with 4 sisters and 3 brothers, there was no shortage of playmates. You can imagine the numbers of kids around, especially if any one of us had a friend over too. At times, my parents' yard looked like it was the local summer camp with all the activity. However, by days end, the mass of humanity was called home, and we were left to play amongst ourselves.

When my father's car rolled into the driveway, en masse, we swarmed around trying to get his attention. We could see the fatigue in his eyes, but he never let on just how tired he was. We delighted in showing him our new found skills, like riding a bike or shooting a basketball. But what he really couldn't resist was the chance to have a catch with us. We'd gather at opposite ends of the front yard, tossing the ball repeatedly, until Mom would call us in for dinner. Our response. "We'll be in in just a minute; just a few more." We threw pop ups, liners and a few grounders just to keep it interesting. We pretended we were in the Big Leagues warming on the sidelines. It was our time.

Those days are gone now, but not forgotten. I can almost imagine the smell of my leather glove, as if I had just put it to my face. The accurate throws and the clean catches remain imprinted in my mind. Those are the memories I cherish, and what we reminisce about at family gatherings. If I had the chance to do it all again, you bet I would, because there was nothing like having a catch with Dad!