Ever since I can remember, as soon as the flowers would bloom & the sky would stay bright a little longer, I have been going to baseball games. My dad would gladly drive me over to the local ball field when I was a kid so I could watch my friends slide into home plate. We continued cheering on the home team through out high school. And even well on into college, this was an activity that we shared together.
Austin has played baseball since he was old enough to hold a bat. He has never been a star player, but he poured his heart & soul into the love of the game.
He got better as every year went by. He grew from that little fella who would rather play in the dirt than watch the ball to one of the fastest runners on the team. The coach knew that if Austin could just get on base, more than likely he could steal his way home. More often than not, his was one of the few runs scored.
Something changed last year. Austin really questioned whether or not to even play baseball. After lots of thought & going back & forth, he decided to slide on those cleats for another season.
We realized early on that this year would not be like any previous year.
Still through discouragement, heartbreak, confusion, & anger, we persevered as a family. Justin & I have always let the kids choose their activities (to an extent), but they know that we finish what we start.
When the season was finally over, I knew it was R E A L L Y over. For better or for worse, I knew his outlook on the game of baseball would never be the same.
*Here's a sneak peak at what went on last year.*