Today we had three baseball games to attend. It was sweltering hot–upper 90’s and very humid. The only thing that kept my complaints about the heat in check–aside from my gratitude that I wasn’t running around in it wearing a polyester baseball uniform–was listening to the grandma sitting next to me in the stands, whose passing remark helped me adjust my perspective.
A couple of the moms were complaining about the heat and then one of them turned to her solicitously and asked if the heat didn’t bother her. And I’m sure it did. This was a woman so dumpling-shaped and crippled up in her legs that she couldn’t get out of her chair without preliminarily rocking forward and backward a few times to get enough momentum. And then she hobbled, bent over, when she walked. I’m sure at her size the heat had to be really hard on her. But she did not complain. She said simply, “I know it’s hot. But I love to see my grandchildren play.”
I was humbled by how she simply shrugged off the physical difficulty involved in being at the game. Grandmas know that you need to seize your chances. Seasons that seem to go on forever do come to an end.
On the other hand, she asked me if I was D17’s grandma.
“What does she know, she’s just an ignorant old woman”
–slightly misquoted from that scene in O Brother Where Art Thou where McGill alternately accepts and denies the blind man’s prophetic gift.