He placed each baseball carefully into their packages. As he did, it brought back memories of that wonderful summer day, back in his youth, when he flagged those two foul balls during a day and night double header at Yankee Stadium. His Dad had even waited with him after the games at the locker room door, well after his bedtime, to get them signed.
A week later the small brick ranch was abuzz. The twins were eight today, practically men by their reckoning, and they couldn't wait for the post-dinner festivities to begin. Mom brought out the cake, with '88' lit up in candles, and everyone - even the twins, joined in the singing. The presents were all wrapped in fancy paper except for the two small square boxes with postage, which the boys saved for last. "A baseball" said Tommy. "Me too" said Pete. Dad explained the story behind the balls, for he knew how precious they were to his father. "Wow!" Tommy interrupted, "Roger Maris!!" "Geez, Mickey Mantle!!!" added his brother.
It was a crisp, bright autumn day, perfect for a family gathering even though it was a funeral. Now in their mid-twenties, the twins had been pallbearers. The casket was simple but bore the markings of someone who had been dearly loved, with little mementos placed among the flowers on its top, more meaningful to the givers than anyone else would ever know. Among them were two small cardboard boxes.
That night Grandpa came to Tom in a dream. "Hello Tom. Thank you for the baseball. Its as perfect as the day I sent it to you! You have taken very good care of it. I will think of you when I look at it. Love, Grandpa."
He also came to Peter. "Hello Peter. Thank you for the baseball. I hardly recognize it, its so worn and tattered! Please take it back, and continue to use it, for it brings me great joy. My eyes squint when you look into the sun to catch it, my elbows tingle when you swing away to hit it, my hair flickers in the breeze as you round the bases, the sweet smell of cut grass surrounds me when you glove a grounder, and my heart leaps for joy when you taste victory. I am so proud of you and am with you always. Love, Grandpa."
The baseball is life. Pick yours.
