It was my life and it was fun
Another season of my life is done
Another race i'm glad I got to run
Another chapter in my life its over
No i'm never gonna feel like that again
Times rushin by me like the wind
Never be as young as I was then
No i'm never gonna feel like that again
-Never gonna feel that way again

Kristen asked me to go watch her sister play some softball games this weekend in Milton. We then get on the subject of missing it, and how playing softball can really become your life. So I get a lil teary eyed, and she told me to read the lyrics of one of Kenny Chesney's songs. So there they are above. Describes my feelings exactly.

I've dedicated every summer to softball since I was about 12. I had played before, but I never quite set aside my other life until then. It was when I was 12 that summer vacations became a thing of the past, our vacations were spent in hotels with 13 other girls. When we weren't on the field practicing, we were out on the town raising money. In the last couple years, when I got too old for All-Stars, and only focused on ASA, I didn't have to spend as much time on softball. Yes, absolutely every weekend but one was spent at a tournament, but I wasn't always tagging for money or practice twice every day. But now that I have nothing, I feel empty. All those years I dedicated my heart and sole to the game. Why? Maybe because I was good at it. Maybe because it helped me develop strong and life long friendships. Maybe because it helped bring my family togehter (Chris would keep score and help work on the fields, Dad would be in the dugout to make sure I drank plenty of fluids, and to pour ice cold water on the back of my neck, Mom would help out as team mom and would be there to load us up on food between games). Whatever the reason, I truly loved the game.

Its been almost a year since I've heard the crack of the bat as the ball goes sailing through the air. Its been almost a year since I've smelled the sweet perfume of a sweaty glove. Its been almost a year since I nursed a bloody strawberry, a glorious battlewound.

Do I miss it? -Yes, of course-
Do I regret anything? -No-

But perhaps I could have enjoyed every second a little more. Perhaps I could have savored every pitch and every out. Perhaps I could have appreciated the stained floormats from muddy cleats. Perhaps I could have overlooked the piles of sand that accumulated on my floor as I slipped my cleats off. That was all part of it, all part of what I loved so much.

The bruises. The strawberries. The God-awful tan lines.

The hurrying home from a playoff game to get ready for prom (can you believe I made it an hour?)

Secretly crying because I would have to miss baccalauraette...I never worked hard to graduate. I worked very hard to get to the state tournament.

Everyone has a time to turn in their glove. Mine came and went. No regrets. Only true love.