Vicarious Dreams

I have never been an athlete.  Far from it - my dear old dad once told me that I walked like I was pushing a plow.  Thanks. 

The  closest I ever got to being on a field during a game was dancing in the drill team (now, there's an image for you!) in High School.  Can't throw, or run, or jump (Erin has proof on video if you'd like to see it!) or even see a travel when they call one.

So, why am I so obsessed with the San Antonio Spurs?!?!?  It has nothing to do with the game.  Yeah, I can tell when they mess up - most of the time - and I can get REAL excited when they do something great.  But that is the vehicle through which I became a fan. 

Every sports fan thinks their guys are the best.  Ask 'em, and they'll tell you.  My favorite fan outside of SA is my cousin, Deeann Wood.  Now, that girl is a Rangers' fanatic.  Lately, we have bonded closer than ever over our respective teams and their players.  It's been great to get texts from her during Spurs games to encourage, praise, and comfort when I needed it the most.  Got one this morning, in fact, as I sat gloomily watching Press Conference sadness.  That is part of the bond you make when you "share" a team.  When one of our group last night starting saying "it's over", he was almost run out of the house.  No place for that, even if it was true....

No, my allegiance - yes, allegiance - is not to the entity of the Spurs, but to the individuals.  Pop, Tim, Tony, Manu.... and on and on.  You want to know them personally, while knowing if the chance came, you'd be so dumbfounded that you would not be able to speak a word.  You feel for them when their lives go badly, which in San Antonio is a closely guarded secret. You hope for their happiness and success. 

And you want them to reach their dreams and goals.  When I was reminded by a lady this week at one of the games that "it's only a game",  I responded that, no, it's the chasing of a dream. And it's sad when a dream goes unfulfilled.  Even if they are mega-millionaires, they are men, with dreams.  If that sounds silly, then I guess I am silly. 

So, for now, the games are done.  The Spurs will get away and put this season in perspective in preparation for the next time.  How many "next times" does Tim have left?  Will Manu return, or was this the end?  That is why this season, after coming so, so close to the realization of a 5th Championship is so hard to let go of.

So -   Go, Spurs, Go!

Rest, in peace.

Up front, I will tell you that is post is personal, and intimate.  I apologize to anyone who thinks I tell too much....

     Death brings so many different emotions.  The last few months, I've dealt with each and every one.  Time to put those emotions on paper.

     With Elaine, death was a shock and a deep, mean feeling.  Shock, because we really didn't see it coming, and mean because, well, we just weren't ready to face losing her.  In some ways, she was closer to me than a sister, even though I didn't see her regularly.  She knew my history, watched me grow, kept me grounded.  Now there are only 3 of us girl cousins left, and that dwindling of a group so influential to my life brings a certain amount of dread.  "Who is next?" creeps into your mind, and you fear the answer.  Elaine was sweet and hard all in the same woman; no one loved more fiercely and loyally, and yet her experiences had made her see the reality of what life can be up close and personal.  As I stood beside her, I stroked her hands, once so very painful and frustrating, now quiet and - well, at peace.  No more hurting - no more needing help for the most minute daily chores.  But she never let it stop her, and her acceptance of what she had to deal with made her even more impressive.  Her love for her brothers was a big responsibility, and her nieces and nephews knew of her unconditional love for both them and their fathers.  Now they face their lives without her help....

    I knew and lived alongside my mother-in-law for 40 years.  I met her as a freshman in college, and became her first daughter-in-law.  I learned so much about courage and steadfastness and living with commitment through her.  And the most important thing I learned is how to live your life doing the right thing.  I know that sounds simplistic, and I knew it going into my adulthood, but to see her life unfold as it did cemented that knowledge.  All through the years, she made it clear as to how she wanted her life to be; what her fears and wishes were.  And while a large part of it she had no control over, because of the fact that she had made her wishes so clear, in the end it went the way  she wanted it.  My respect for her children grows continually because of that determination to follow through with what she expected them to do, never putting what they wanted over her desires.  She was ready to put her old self to rest, and did it without fear or regret.  Death came as a friend, to take her out of a life that she never wanted.  As she wished, there was no maudlin viewing for our "closure", but respect for the intimacy of the type of death she felt so strongly about.  Her peace in complete.

     And lastly, my sister.  Nine years apart in age, we grew apart and never really regained what my mother hoped so desperately we would become.  Lifestyles so drastically different, miles lived so very far apart, and past memories often too hard to overcome; we did end her life on peaceful terms.  Her life was not one I would say was full of peace - but when she died, she was in a good marriage with loving sons who mourn her.  It is what I wished for her, and I am glad.  As we stood on the beach, and I watched them pour her into the ocean, I was able to put to rest whatever anxious feelings I still carried.  Her life was her own, and while it ended too soon, I know that she loved many and was loved by many.  Death came for her unexpectedly, just as it had for our mother.

     As a Christian, I should not fear death.  I should anticipate an eternity in Heaven, and I do.  It's the process of the dying, and the mourning of those left behind that I dread.  Not just for me, but for those I love.  Elaine.  Mom.  Marsha.  They are gone.

    I know that they all rest.  In peace.