Tonight, my youngest, Charlie, got to be pitcher. This is something he has been itching to do and talking about non-stop for two weeks.

I quickly grabbed my phone & started snapping pictures. Without thinking I thought,
“I can’t wait to send these to Jess. He’s going to be so excited!!”
Then it hit me. I can’t send these to Jess.
It was literally probably only 2.5 seconds , but it was a swift reality and hit check I haven’t experienced in a while.
I never forget Jess is dead, but I also hardly ever think of him as alive anymore. It’s weird.
I felt so weird about it that I immediately sent the pictures to someone I knew would understand where my head had been at in those seconds. That helped tremendously since she told me she also does that still.
What I Wouldn’t Give to be able to send him pictures of our kids at their baseball games. For a split second, I just thought he was at work & missing this one. If only that were the case.
This whole baseball season is our first since he died. He was the one who got us all so into baseball and I miss him every practice. Every game. Every time one of our kids does something amazing or truly dumb while playing.
So, I decided if this moment is so special, I should share it with the world. Here you are, Charlie playing the most coveted position as pitcher:

Jess would be excited. Jess would be So Proud. Jess would brag to anyone who would listen and even to those who didn’t want to.
I am PROUD to be their mom.
I am proud to have the background I have, from childhood and from Jess Sr., to be able to help my boys play a game we all love. ❤️
As of late, I have felt his absence often. Not his physical absence per say, but the absence of he who cares just as much as me about what our boys care about. There is No Other than a parent who will enjoy the fact that Charlie gets to play pitcher or Jess actually swung the bat and got to a base instead of being walked.
Others can show up if they want and even care a great deal. The utter joy a parent feels??? That is something you cannot transfer. With their death, it ends—and then there is only one.
But I know we all can come together and cheer one another’s kids on. Even if we don’t know each other. Even if we may never meet.
We are happy that the kid is happy.
We feel joy that the kid that we only know by number (is his name Dexter or Carter??) and never met in person got to field that position they have dreamt about for weeks.
I encourage you all to cheer for ALL OF THE CHILDREN.
Be Kind.
Don’t Talk Sh*t.
MAKE GOOD CHOICES.
~Love & Light, Sarah