Happy 4th of July!

It's July Fourth! A time of fireworks, and music, and picnics, and grilling, and swimming pools, and oh yes, that little piece of paper giving birth to a daring new republic, the Declaration of Independence. Some studies have revealed that many of the themes in this letter to King George III had been "borrowed" from other works, but the collection of these together, along with the signatures of 56 men, shook the foundation of the British Empire, and set the foundation for thirteen separate, sovereign states to become united as one, the United States of America.

In all of this, debates and tempers were heated, even as the Philadelphia heat of summer beat down on their meeting hall. But there was a force, a vision, that was above and beyond those differences of opinion. And it was to this purpose that these very different men affixed their names, and became, as one, Americans.

For this Fourth, let us resolve to go beyond our differences, put party lines aside, and as these brave men, cherish the fact that we are all, as one, Americans.

My First Day of Baseball

     For as long as I can remember, I’ve never been able to outdo my brother. He’s always been able to “one up” me in anything I’ve attempted. Don’t get me wrong, I love my big brother. It’s just that I wanted to be as good as he was, and never quite seemed to get there.

     He was born first. (Older by 11 years.) He made better grades in High School. (Without ever bringing home a book.) He played in the High School band, and was STILL popular. (My popularity extended only to playing for others in talent shows, then dissolving into the forgotten, faceless crowd.)

     But most of all, my brother excelled at sports. Any sport. Any time. Always ready. And his favorite was BASEBALL.  He could hit, he could catch, he could throw better than anyone else I knew. Sandlot, High School, Church Team, College, it didn’t matter. This was his “best of the best” sport. And I wanted to be just like him.

     So when a chance came to try out for a youth league BASEBALL team, I knew I had to do it. I went over all the reasons with my mom and dad, over and over, to get them to let me try. I was old enough, I said. I got good enough grades, I said. I could still do my chores around the house, I said. And my crowning argument? You let Gary, I said.

     Finally succumbing to my near flawless debating technique (Gary was a little better.), it was agreed that I would attend the tryouts. And best of all, Gary would take me there. I don’t even remember the ride down, I was so excited. Not only was I going to play BASEBALL (I knew the tryouts were in the bag.) but I was going to show Gary I could do something that he could do and he would be so proud of me never mind 11 years we would be close just like brothers should be never mind he started college when I started first grade we were brothers and he could finally be proud!

     When we got there, Gary pulled his car into a dirt parking spot facing the field, near home plate. Awesome, I thought, he’ll be able to see me. He’ll see me make the team. I jumped out, glove in hand, and ran to the dugout to the nearest adult I could find, and told him I wanted to try out for the team.

     As it happens, we had gotten there after the tryouts had started, and they had already done some fielding, so he sent me to grab a bat, and try my hitting. That was fine with me; my fielding wasn’t my best ability. I had this unfortunate habit of reacting just a bit slow, so I caught about an equal number of balls with my face as my glove. But I was much better with hitting. This was my time, I would show them right here. I’d hit that ball so far, they’d have to take me. And it would all happen right in front of Gary.

     I had always been a scrawny kid, so they must have felt they needed to take it easy on me. For whatever reason, that first pitch was the most beautiful pitch my young years had ever seen. (Or have seen since.) I still picture that moment in my head in slow motion, my form reaching a level of perfection it had never risen to before, feeling the power of connection, then seeing the ball fly from the bat. I had a hit! To my mind it was the greatest hit in the history of youth league BASEBALL tryouts. Soaring out, making it almost all the way to the outfield. And Gary had seen it.

     After a second’s hesitation, to bask in my history making moment, I began to run for all I was worth. As I rounded third, I saw that my soon-to-be team mate’s joy was equal to my own. Even though I put my all into running, I could still see from the corner of my eyes them laughing and cheering me on. I was not only going to be on the team, I would be its star. Oh, life was good!

     As I rounded second, it seemed the joyous enthusiasm of my team continued to increase. Some were so happy with my talent; they were even rolling in the grass, unable to speak, for the joy of obtaining their new team leader. I would be a gracious leader as well, always offering to help those not as capable as myself. I looked towards the car for Gary, but I couldn’t see him. Could he have walked off, without seeing my greatest triumph? No matter, over my years in school, college, then the pros, he would have plenty of opportunity to see me shine.

     As I rounded first, it began to strike me as odd that no one had made an attempt to get the ball, now resting comfortably in the grass next to the nearly comatose shortstop. Had I so overwhelmed them, they had given up even trying? No, no, this was too much. I would have to remember to hold back my considerable talent, so that no one would feel they didn’t measure up. And where was Gary? I can’t believe he didn’t see this adulation for his little brother.

     As my feet finally reached that sacred diamond of whitened rubber, several realizations hit me at once. First, that the joy around me seemed excessive, even for such a glorious hit. Second, that I could see Gary, or at least his head, actually just the top of his head, from behind his steering wheel. Third, as the coach was approaching me, I was suddenly less confident if the order of bases was supposed to be 3^rd, 2^nd, 1^st, home…or 1^st, 2^nd, 3^rd, home. The coach, catching his breath between words, confirmed the correct order.

     I went over to the dugout, picked up my glove, and walked with the gait of a man being led to his execution to my brother’s car. I opened the passenger door, slunk inside and, very quietly, we went home. I went in my room, put away my glove, and didn’t pick it up again.

     Well, that’s not actually right. There’s something about BASEBALL that keeps drawing a person in. Maybe it’s the fact that anyone can play, yet no one ever completely masters it. It is a game where the entire team becomes a band of brothers, fighting together for the win, yet can be determined by one bat, one pitch, one catch. Ruthlessly fair, it is 9 innings of true competition, to which you give your all, you have no other choice, and would have it no other way. You see, my brother was right about something else too. BASEBALL is the best.

A Love Poem

I searched for you.
everywhere I looked I would see you,
but you were not there.


In the gray stillness of the morning,
the peacefulness of those last moments
the moon and stars still rule the sky,
You were not there in the peace,
yet your peace was all around.


In the exuberance of the dawn
The joyful moment the sun overcomes the night
and rises, at first just peeking over the horizon.
Then rising high, blinding all those who doubted
it could ever overcome the darkness again.
You were not there in the joy.
Yet your joy was all around.


In the warmth of the day.
The sun giving life to all it touches.
Sustaining it, caressing it, the earth and
all in it reborn. And hope, knowing that even when it wasn't there, it still
gave life.
You were not there in the hope.
Yet your hope was all around.


Lying in bed at night.
Hungering for your peace, your joy, your hope, your love.
Yet filled completely, for all that is here, all around.
And I have found you, where you were all along.
In my heart.

Never Give A Cancer An Even Break

     We are all different. Even under that battered, wind torn umbrella called "Cancer", each of us prefixes it with a different organ. And even those cancers that share specific locales are played out in different stages.
     That being said, we have some things in common as well. We all have battle scars. We all remember the moment we found out. And we all, as long as there is life within us, are survivors. Each day of life, whether proclaimed cancer free, or in the midst of the battle, is another day we win, we survive. I think there are several ways we can optimize that survival, and these are a few I have found. Some may be helpful, some not, or may toss the whole list entirely. that is entirely up to you, and you won't hurt my feelings in the least. Even I don't always adhere to the list, so much as aspire!

How To Be A Cancer Survivor
1.) Be Strong - To paraphrase W C Fields, "Never give a cancer an even break"! Always know that you are stronger than this thing inside you, and nothing it may take can change that. And while it may change your life, don't let it define your life.
2.) Be Helpless, not Hopeless - There will be times when we all simply need a hand, and it is not weakness to accept it. When you do accept that help, it allows those who offer the ability to journey with us. Remember that when we divide the weakness, we multiply the strength.
3.) Be Understanding - There will be friends who will seem to drift and fade into old memories of "I wonder what happened to...", all because of cancer. Don't be upset by their departure, but pity their fear. Cancer reminds people of their own mortality. Even though Jim Morrison said "No one here gets out alive", nobody likes to be reminded of their departure ticket! Don't be worried by their going, there are others who will stay. To them, give love with all your heart.
4.) Be Multi-Purposed - Work, home, kids, church, school, doctors appointments, sports, meetings, cook, clean and "don't forget to take time for yourself"! At the End of the Day? Wash the cares out of your hair...rinse, repeat the next day!
5.) Be Self-Humored - Always be ready to laugh at your cancer. Laughter is the most fierce weapon in defeating any enemy, because to laugh at something we take away its control over us. As absurd as life is with cancer, humor is never far away! (As an example: Just during the writing of this post, I've been to the bathroom 4 times. Not sure if that's a statement about the quality of my writing or not!)
6.) Be Vocal - Don't be afraid to speak out or speak up for yourself. But don't speak just to add to the noise, speak to add your voice to the conversation. The more people are heard, the more the complexities of cancer (and life) can be understood.
7.) Be Faithful - As a Christian, my faith has been the strongest thing (along with my wife) to keep me going, even when the only thing I could do was look up and say "Why me?". But cancer is no respecter of any religion, or deference of religion. That is its greatest weakness. Hold on at the very least to the faith that there is something bigger than ourselves, something bigger than the cancer. Follow that light inside, and rest in knowing you are not alone, and cancer is not over all else in you.

So remember...Be Strong, Be Helpless, Be Understanding, Be Multi-Purposed, Be Self-Humored, Be Vocal, Be Faithful, and most of all, be Yourself. There is none better.