the baseball.
His first word was “ball.” We would spend hours, while he was still just crawling, when I would roll the ball to him and he would throw it back to me.
Now…he dreams in baseball. He breathes it in and breathes it out. He arranges his life for it and in it.
And I see him there. Through tears, sometimes, as I see the game form him, who he is, how he respects others, and how he just loves.
