Senior Escort, Homecoming 2011

My baby boy, all grown up..... ...as the Senior baseball escort of one lucky young lady! (Not prejudiced in any way, nope not me....just sayin'!)

If you'll allow me just two minutes to be a bit nostalgic, I would like to reminisce. I'll try not to over-run my time slot.

It seems like only yesterday, I couldn't wait to find out if I was having a boy or a girl. To be cliche, I really wanted a healthy baby, but to be selfish, I wanted it to be a boy. After all, I had a girl, and the "perfect" family, that was at least ideal to me, was a mom, a dad, a brother and a sister. Anything else was just extra fun, but having both a boy and a girl was something I really wanted. You can imagine how excited I was to find out that I was going to have a boy. The name-selecting process began....nope, not that one because it reminds me of so-and-so. You wanna name him what!?!?! I don't think so! What do you think of this...? That might be a contender. And so on and so forth. I knew that I wanted my son to have his dad's middle name, so Allen was a given. When we ran across "Kevin", we knew it was the one. End of story, nuff said. We had our name: Kevin Allen Key. Next, it was time to daydream about the baseball player we hoped to have. (One of the commonalities his dad and I had, for sure.) I can clearly see his photo in his little baseball sleeper, then one in his baseball onesie, sitting up. Next comes the one with his Little Tykes weeble-like tee, big chubby red plastic bat, and a huge go-get-em-tiger smile....then a photo of him in his dad's old high school jersey, jersey touching the floor and short sleeves made long on such a little body. I remember the phone call we got asking if we would be interested in coaching a tee-ball team, and so we did. I can name every team he was on, every position he played, and I may have lost count of all of his home runs, or "touch downs" as his Memaw would call them. I remember standing at 3rd base, for this was the base I coached during games, hearing the lookers-on talk about that "Kevin Key kid", and I remember hearing their questions: "Who is that kid playing 1st base?" Or "What an awesome pitch! That kid has a great arm!" And all the while, they didn't know that his mama was right there, listening to them, proverbial buttons popping off her proud chest. I remember vying for the number 6 jersey each year at all-star time, because that was his number, no matter what. (It was also his dad's number, which made it all the sweeter.) I have so many memories of this boy and that sport called baseball. I could write a book. (I suppose you are thinking I am well on my way, right?) I remember how serious we took each game, and I know now that perspective changes as I watch his very younger sister play her tee-ball games as a MUCH more mellowed-out mom and fan than I was all those years ago. I remember telling him to never think he was the best, but to always work towards being the best. To always remember there is always something to learn, and to never think he knew it all. The day that he thought that, I would tell him, would be the day that in all actuality, he knew nothing. I remember telling him that we did not have a "name" and that if he wanted to play ball as he went through the leagues and then on into high school, he would have to play well enough to make a name for himself so that he could not only make the team, but so that he could have playing time. I remember how he would go out with his brother and use sticks and rocks to play ball. I remember how they would stay for hours on end, throwing and catching, pitching and hitting; Kevin and Wyatt....a force to be reckoned with. I know now that all those hours of sticks and rocks, sweat and blood, games and practices paid off. I know that time has flown as he was accepted to play on his high school team as a Freshman, played as both a Sophomore and Junior, and is now anticipating the start of his Senior year as a starting player. I wonder where all the time has went from all those yesterdays until today....could it really be that my son, my baby, is head and shoulders taller than me? Is a Senior and will be graduating and moving on to whatever God sees fit to deliver next in his life? It was only yesterday that he was at bat, smacking that ball right off the tee, dreaming of the day when he would have the power to knock one over, stand and watch as it went out, the jog around the bases, and now, we're here, experiencing just those things. I'd like to think that I enjoyed every sweaty minute of the road from there to here, and I know that I would do it all over again in a heartbeat, for those moments on that field, watching him learn not only about baseball, but about life have shaped my son into the person that he is today. Oh, how very proud I am of that person, and I'm not just talking about his madd hott baseball skills, either! :) Kevyboy, your Mama is prouder than proud of the person you are, and looks forward to seeing what you do during the next step in your life, for I know you are a mighty force to be reckoned with, and you will do great things for many people. I love you more than you could possibly know. <3