I Want To Miss It All

This morning, I had to go the southwestern part of the parish to look at a property. During the drive down Hwy 34, I opened my window and let the cool breeze invade my car. It reminded me…

Yesterday I saw an old friend that I used to coach against back in 1998. He and I reminisced about some of the escapades that we had taken part of during that time. We laughed for a solid hour…remembering some of the dumb stuff we did and some of crazy pranks we pulled. We ended the conversation with “Man, I miss those days.”

On my ride back to Monroe today, I went an alternate route and passed a convenience store. The smell of boiled crawfish immediately wafted into my car. Oh, the memories… You see, Angie and I love to eat boiled crawfish on our deck with friends. Some of my favorite times have been 20 feet out my back door. I love the smell of citronella candles burning and the faint sound of blues or jazz music playing in the background. I’m missing that right now.

I miss the soccer team I coached circa 2000. I thought about them yesterday because I was at the funeral for one of the players' grandfathers. The team practiced every Tuesday and Thursday at Covenant Presbyterian Church. That little Service Master team was full of characters; and the friendship of the parents was so genuine. I miss the Judy Moore Realty softball team I coached back in 1996. They weren’t expected to set the world on fire, but they won the league and the tournament that year. And again, the parents made all the difference in the world.

I miss the neighborhood Angie and I lived in while we were in Mississippi. All of the families were similar in age, had kids the same age, and were interested in similar things. On one occasion, I grilled chickens for 30 to 40 people…lots of laughter…lots of fun…all on a patio!

I miss the neighborhood where I grew up. There must have been about two dozen kids that lived in a two-block radius. There was usually a tag-football game going on every Saturday. And we rode our bikes virtually everywhere and made ramps to jump. At night, we’d do sinister things like shooting crabapples at cars using our Wrist-Rocket slingshots. You’ve never experienced fear until you have a grown man chasing you through an alley because you just “thumped” his car. I miss the nicknames because everybody had a nickname. To this day, I still don’t know some of those kids “real” names.

I miss the videos Meredith used to send me when she was a freshman at LSU. She and her roommate, Dani, would record Meredith dancing to different songs. Some times, Ernie, her stuffed dog, would participate. The videos always made me laugh and marvel at her creativity.

I miss John hitting the game-winning single in the bottom of the last inning of a baseball game. I was coaching first base that night and when the base-runner scored, John and I hugged at first base and screamed in unison. What a feeling!!

I miss Daniel looking me square in the eye and telling me “I’m not the Hammer…I’m the Big Cat.” I had started calling him “Hammer” when he was a toddler because he was so rough with all of his toys. One day, when he was about three, he straightened me out. We still don’t know where he came up with “the Big Cat,” but it stuck. I still call him that today.

I miss my mom on so many different levels. My mom loved to watch boxing. She was such a mild, meek lady, but when boxing came on, Katie bar the door! She probably could have been a great boxing manager. I miss hearing her sing and I miss hearing her laugh.

I miss my dad on so many levels too. He was infinitely funnier than I’ll ever be in a million years. He didn’t have a formal education, but I would have pitted him up against any of the brightest minds I know. He thought fast on his feet and was as quick-witted as anyone I’ve ever known.

To sum it up, I guess I’m happy that I’m missing these things. Ironic, isn’t it? I kid with Angie that when I get into something, I go all in…no holding back. You know…jump in feet first and start running. But isn’t that the way we’re supposed to live? I’m soaking it all up…how about you? Ten years from now, I hope I’m able to sit back, laugh, and say: “Man, I miss those days.”