12th
Life is like a pack of baseball cards.
No, not because you don’t know what you’re going to get. More like, what you’re not getting out of life right now.
Remember being a kid and how the little things in life made you so super happy? Getting a pack of baseball cards and opening them with a friend. I’m sure girls do different things like that…but since I’m not a girl, I imagine it’s a hairdressing PJ party or something. Doesn’t cost a bunch of money, and the return is so great. The joy is pure.
I’ve noticed that older folks pick up hobbies, such as playing Bingo, or sewing, or going to ballgames. Little things that give them so much enjoyment.
But somewhere in the middle of life, we lose that. It turns into buying the biggest houses, the most expensive cars, crazy gadgets that make sounds when you tap it. I fell into this. The enjoyment I get out of such things is next to nothing anymore.
Right after chemo yesterday (6 of 12), Sarah and I went to 711. They had packs of baseball cards at the counter. I can’t remember the last time I bought a pack of baseball cards. They’re more expensive than I remember, about $2.39. But I bought a pack.
I was excited to open them later, and see who I got.
But there were 2 boys outside with their bikes. So Sarah and I walked over to them and I asked them if they’d like some baseball cards. Their eyes LIT UP. They said “Yeah man, sure wow”. Over a $2.39 pack of baseball cards.
Where did I lose this happiness and zest. I want it back.
So we opened the pack and I said oh “Jimmy Rollins!” and one of the boys said “I call that one!” We laughed and I went through some other players I’ve never heard of. I saw a retro Steve Carlton card.
I called it.
It made me happy. And I got that zest back.
I gave them the rest of the cards to divide between them and we went on our merry way.
Life should be like a pack of baseball cards. Happy, unexpected, a treat, and not something to fill some void you have. Nothing excessive or ridiculous.
Just a smile.
I call it.
