That’s one of the happy places where I wish to remember my father-in-law. After all, he’s the biggest reason I became a season ticket holder for minor league baseball.
He’s still with us, but barely recognizable as the former player or even the man who most occupied my seat on the row at first base. Ironically, those seats no longer exist after this past winter’s stadium upgrades.
Unfortunately, I don’t believe he’ll get to enjoy the view from our new seats behind the home dugout. I know he’d relish the awesome perspective between the pitcher and catcher.
Now, we just wait. And we remember.
I recall his cheering the home team, accurately calling pitches or hit-and-run plays, and sharing stories of games past. I feel fortunate to have spent this mostly one-on-one time with him over the years.
You see, he was caretaker for my mother-in-law until her passing. We thought he’d get to enjoy the ballpark even more thereafter, but it was as if his health held on just long enough to see her through. Ever since, it’s been one medical issue after another, robbing him of his former independence.
Our family now gets to experience the coordination between hospice and a caring HME provider like you. Thanks, by the way, for all that you do in this respect. Believe me, it’s appreciated.
Meanwhile, rather than in a hospital room, I want to remember him in that seat near the first base coach.
