Mother, Mother - Can You Hear Me?

When I was 9 years old I saw the movie "Field of Dreams" for the first time. At the end of the movie the ghost of Kevin Costner's father comes back to play "catch" with his son. And as a child I remember watching that scene and, for the very first time, crying at the end of a movie. I didn't understand at the time why that final scene made me so emotional. 

Some 35 years later I sat down and watched the movie again late one night on Netflix. And just like the first time in my parents living room back in 1991, I found myself in tears. But now I understood why. "Field of Dreams" isn't a baseball movie. It's a movie about regret, redemption and faith. And it's a movie about having enough time.

A Catch With Dad - Final Scene

I have no regrets about my relationship with Kyle. We squeezed every inch of life out his short 12-1/2 years. We told each other how much we loved each other daily and enjoyed each other's company.

We didn't, however, have nearly enough time. 

Yesterday would have been Kyle's 13th birthday. And being that it fell on Mother's Day it felt like it could be an emotionally heavy day for all of us. But something wonderful happened. In the midst of our grief we had a beautiful day surrounded by our best friends and family watching UT baseball, which is exactly what Kyle would have wanted. It's not the same without him there, physically, but his impact was everywhere I turned. His iPad pinged all day with birthday messages from his friends. Our phones lit up with text messages from people near and far. A Catholic Mass was dedicated in his honor through the loving generosity of my aunt and uncle in Oklahoma. Andrew Fischer, #11 for Tennessee, hit two homers and ran his mouth to Vanderbilt players as he rounded the bases - Kyle would have loved that. 

This week Erica received a deeply personal message from Kyle. It was so specific and tailored it couldn't be ignored. Suffice to say, knowing that he's protecting us, especially Leah, made yesterday an easier pill to swallow. 

I'll end with another scene from my favorite movie "Heat". It's in the final third of the movie where Al Pacino's character is pursuing Robert Deniro's character. It appears as if Deniro has gotten away, he's won. He outrun the big cat chasing his proverbial mouse. But there's a sliver of hope that Pacino may win. Realizing his small modicum of power he turns to a fellow detective and says, "Neil (Deniro) is here. I can feel it." It's the slightest motivation that keeps him going in pursuit of what he needs to feel complete. 

Kyle is here, I can feel it. I wear him around my neck, on my wrists and have him permanently etched on my skin. But these are just tributes. I can feel his spirit in me, see it in his sister and observe it when I see someone complete an act of kindness for a stranger. 

It's my sliver of motivation that I need to keep going - to pursue what I ultimately want more than anything. I want to hear my son's voice and play a game of "catch".