Wondering about my Wanderings

tennis love

I am finishing another day on my vacation quest. I has been a restful day. I could have gone to an amusement park with my sisters and their kids and chose to stay back and rest. I enjoyed time with my mom and Ken. I played a game of horseshoes with Ken that was reasonably close. It was fun. I was not threatened by the encounter. I notice that I have nothing to lose if I play to live. I feel more uncomfortable against the younger brash crowd that wants to usurp whatever joy and youth that still flows in the depth of my soul. I have been in this place. When I was a youth I played my grandfather, who was about the same age as I am now. The major difference between then and now was that I was a tennis player with little or no athletic ability. In my first year our team lost all eighteen matches that we played. I could not figure out how to serve and was lucky enough to have Papa want to "hit some" with me. He made the game fun for me when I needed to enjoy something in my life. My brother Kurt had been emotionally ill that same year. He was the sports minded one who had the athletic ability that I lacked. Tennis was my portal into connecting with others.

When I look back I can recall Papa being a lot better than I was. He loved the game and the game loved him. He was the one who gave me my first racket. He showed me how to put spin on the ball and play to win. I was quite a bit better the next year. Our tennis team was better also. We went 12 and 6. My serve was still off. I was a doubles player, not quite good enough to play singles. It was that year that I learned to put top spin on the ball and I had a heavy first serve. Papa supplied me with tennis rackets and I practiced as often as I could. Tennis became my life and my story.

Papa continued to play with me. He took the place of Kurt. It hurt to see Kurt become emotionally ill. He helped fill that hole. I was brash for only having played two years of tennis. Papa always beat me quite handily. I was never in the match. At the same time he encouraged me. When I made a good shot he made a big deal about it. It was never about trying to beat him or being better than anyone else. It was about being a shot maker. I have that reputation of making shots even to this day. When I got to college Papa continued to teach me and mentor me. He would fire the ball at me at net and applaud the increasing times I got it over the net. We were always talking about tennis. I had an identity. Before I was a nerd, lost in books, now I could say I was a tennis player. When Papa got into his sixties his health slowed him to the point that I was relegated to being his doubles partner. We would hit some and he could always find a couple people that would play with us. Papa was a master at net and I did the best I could to keep it in play so that he could put it away. It was through his influence that I became a double specialist.

My greatest gift was seeing all three of my kids play tennis. Tim is the best of the three. Once in a while we will hit it around. It is never really a contest. He plays with me in a way that is very non threatening. He is playful and enjoys the play with me more that the need to win. Now I am seeing the next generations come to the tennis courts. I am glad to play, but do not feel as confident and brash as I was in my younger days. My body is changing and I need to be more intentional about keeping in shape, so that I can stay on the court and enjoy the balls flight from my racket into the court. It is like music when it hits the strings. I play for the memory of Papa, the one who taught me how to play the stringed instrument.