Letter number two: Memories of sun and rain

Dear Ballpark Day,

That day the rain came out of no where. It poured out of the previously sunny sky like someone had turned a giant water tap as far as it would go. It beat down on the slanted roof of the concession stand. It showered across the baseball fields and everyone seemed to forget why we'd been there in the first place. Some people ran under the cover of the small over hangs, others ran the long distance back to their cars. All games were called off due to the surprise rain storm. The usual drab looking ball park had been transformed into a sort of watery wonderland in mere minutes. 

Water built up in large puddles on the concrete. Children laughed wildly, we were among them. We were soaked through and through, but we ran, happy and care free through the puddles. Mom wanted to leave right then, but we stalled for time. Racing around the ballpark without a single care in the world. 

Our hair was drenched. I didn't stop running even to wring mine out. The dust from the baseball fields had turned  into thick reddish mud. The players slipped and slid in it, trying to get as dirty as they possibly could. 

The sun shone through the thick rain clouds in places, coloring the entire scene in a yellowish-brown hue. 

And as the rain began to subside, gone as quickly as it had come, we stood at the corner of an over hang. Letting the water drip down on us. The two of us looked as if we had jumped into the river with all of our clothes on. When the rain had gone and it was time to go, we clambered into the backseat and sat in our soaked clothes.
If there were a jar filled with my favorite days, that would be one of them.

                             I'll always remember, 

                                                  Sara

Ponder

Sunset

Lately I've been thinking a lot about how short life is.
My mother's friend's wife just found out that the cancer she'd had years ago has come back. This time the doctors gave her no hope.
You know, we see so much in the media about cancer. We hear about it everyday. But it doesn't really doesn't impact any of us until we have to watch it tear right through some one's life.
It's like the monster we all had hiding under our beds as children. It was so real to us until our parents said it wasn't real at all.
Cancer isn't real to us until it happens to someone we care about.
My great aunt, cousin, and my great grandfather and grandmother all died of different types of cancer. You know, I don't have any real memories of my aunt that I can remember. Just this one when we were on a pontoon boat in Destin. But even that small little fragment is fuzzy. But I remember her funeral.
I barely remember cousin Billy because he lived far away. But I remember his memorial.
I never met my great grandparents on my mother's side, but I've heard stories. Mom says I would have loved them both so much. If there really is something after this life, and I make it to it, I hope I get to meet them.

If I were to find out that I have cancer, and they gave me no hope like my mom's friend, I don't know what I would do. But in a way, I guess I have an idea.
I know that for whatever it was worth, I would never let myself be weak. I would fight ever minute of everyday just to see the next sunrise. The next full moon. My brother's next smile.
I would learn how to truly live.
I would say I'm sorry to everyone I'd ever been angry at. Even if they were the ones at fault.
You know how people always say it's best to live like you're dying? Well, I've decided that anyone who actually achieved that, was really dying.
There must just be something about it; knowing that your days are numbered.
I'd say I'd want to experience that feeling, just to appreciate how truly precious life is, but I don't want to die anytime soon. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, right?
How could you even tell your best friend that you might not live too much longer?
I can't even imagine walking with Paige, and just saying, "I'm dying.". That would break my heart.
Seeing the looks on people's faces. That would be what hit me the hardest. Even if I had come to terms with it, knowing that they wouldn't be okay for a long time, that would get to me.
Just thinking about this sort of thing gets me so depressed. But hey, trying on someone else's shoes is a good thing.
Somewhere, I'm sure there's a girl my age that just found out she has no chance of seeing Christmas. And here I am, warm in my bed, blogging about being in a situation like that when I can't even imagine.
But we've all thought about what it would be like to know that without a doubt, we were going to die. Haven't we?
I think, that if I were dying, I would start giving out a whole lot of advice.
And I would have a few dying wishes too.
I'd tell my mother to finish the latest novel I started.
I'd tell my brother to always have the same laugh.
I'd tell my father where to scatter my ashes.
Aw man, this is making me cry. But what am I saying, I cry over everything. Guess I'm just empathetic like that.
I'd tell Paige to never stop being so kind and loyal.
I'd tell Elizabeth to never lose her goofy personality.
I'd tell Kimberlee go out and see the world for me.
I'd tell Dylan to never let the way people don't see things too clearly hurt him.
I guess I could keep going with this and make it really sappy, but since I'm not dying, I don't see the point.
I feel so sorry for anyone going through something so awful. I feel so sorry for the families affected.
This blog really just came out of nowhere. I Just started thinking about my mom's friend and how much he loves his wife. It really breaks my heart.

Peace, Love, and Deep Thoughts,
                                                     Sara

I've got lot's of friends. Yes, but then again, Nobody knows me at all. ~The Weepies