I know the saying is actually, “Seize the Day.” But, I don’t seem able to focus on an entire day right now. When Wendell and I shared our first ham sandwich at Pizza Hut 38 years ago, he told me about the country doctor he wanted to become. I started dreaming then about working with him in our little mom and pop clinic.

My seventeen-year-old self never imagined the dream would finally come true when I was fifty. And I certainly couldn’t imagine how all-consuming it would be. But, we love it. Our nest is otherwise empty, so we are pretty much fine with long hours, frequent interruptions, and having just enough money to make payroll each week.

The only thing suffering right now is baseball. Neither of us are fans of the game. But we are great fans of the eight little grandchildren who are playing this year. We haven’t managed to make a single game so far. Sometimes, I start feeling really badly about that.

Then, I suddenly discover a way to seize the moment. Like this evening. I knew the girls didn’t have enough players to run the bases while they practiced fielding. And I had half an hour. So, I joined the mommy volunteers. I hit the ball every time! (right off that tee!) And I ran the bases at a speed just perfect for grandmothers and five-year-old rookies. And for fifteen glorious moments, Claire trash-talked me from her position as catcher. And Ada jumped up and down squealing when I passed her and rounded second base.

It was hot and sweaty, silly and wonderful. And my contribution didn’t last long.

But then again, maybe it will.