Our guest writer, Theresa Stiles, contributed this poignant, spiritual remembrance of backyard kickball and wiffle ball days gone by. Like many of us, Theresa and her husband were happy to raise their children here in Westfield and neighboring towns. But when the kids departed for college and onto new chapters in their lives, she felt at sea and paused to relive treasured times: “Treasures I have been grateful for in the past mean so much more in the present. I stand with my morning coffee in front of the sliding glass doors, the lens through which I view the past and present. My mental film flaps like a flag blowing in the wind as the backyard projector plays old family movie reels.
Our guest writer, Theresa Stiles, contributed this poignant, spiritual remembrance of backyard kickball and wiffle ball days gone by. Like many of us, Theresa and her husband were happy to raise their children here in Westfield and neighboring towns. But when the kids departed for college and onto new chapters in their lives, she felt at sea and paused to relive treasured times: “Treasures I have been grateful for in the past mean so much more in the present. I stand with my morning coffee in front of the sliding glass doors, the lens through which I view the past and present. My mental film flaps like a flag blowing in the wind as the backyard projector plays old family movie reels.
There is no need for electronics. I simply rewind my remembered images to the beginning and watch my kids and me playing wiffle ball and kickball. Our favorite box office hits were the games when both teams tied, and everyone was a winner. My eyes drifted up as I watched my son hit a homer over the fence, and my gaze stopped. I gratefully found another lost treasure.
When the kids were young, I told myself they were in God’s hands. But as years went by, this grounding thought got stuck under a pile of living. I tackled my heap of football players, moved them to the sidelines, and cleared the field to allow God to coach me back to peace, finding refuge in the home team, my family treasure.
In my mind’s eye, I watch a trove of kid-friendly repeats. They were silent for a while. Now I replay them as I hear my grown-up kids, each a treasured gift, making their voices heard loud and clear as soon as they come home. The spirit of the holidays is being unpacked with all their noise, noise, noise. I seek and ultimately find quiet acceptance in my humble abode.
From the bookshelf, I retrieve a very worn volume of Circumstances. The story of circumstances is that they are out of my control because God’s will be done. He gave us all free will to follow His plan for us or not. I can call all the plays I want, but only God can signal a win. Gratefully accepting the circumstances leaves the outcome in God’s hands. I treasure that feeling of release.
I have gratefully found peace from the past and brought it into the future to treasure the present with newfound time. I reach out to grasp the here and now, and another piece of that old family jigsaw puzzle falls into place. I have climbed Mount Stiles and ruled from its peak. I shoulder my backpack filled with baby clothes, a koala bear, a Dixie cup, Golden Books, and water balloons, and move on to treasure the adult journey that awaits me.”
Thanks, Theresa, for sharing your treasures with us.
Please share your treasured memories with The Westfield Leader and Union County HAWK by writing “Gratitude” in the subject line and emailing press@ goleader. com or pattisteckler@gmail.com.