A Mother's Gift

My mother,

daughter of the depression,

FDR, and Fireside Chats--

At the local Kwik Shop,

she's only a "Taker"

in the sign saying,

"Take a penny,

leave a penny,"

but one day,

like Willie Mays

making "The Catch,"

Carlton Fisk

willing that ball fair,

Bernie and Bucky

blasting big homers

for, and against, Boston,

and Kirk connecting off "Eck,"

my mom came 

through in the clutch

for me.


In fourth grade, 

a growing boy,

breathing baseball,

needs a glove

to scoop grounders,

shag flies,

chase dreams.

So Mom

drives to Sears

Sporting Goods

where I fall

in love with

a Wilson, autographed

Jim "Catfish" Hunter

model baseball glove--

1970 price--

twenty-five dollars!


Maybe Mom saw

something in my face

or the way

the leather fit

my hand,

or heard the sound 

of her son's fist

punching the pocket,

already anticipating

snaring the first

line drive--

more likely--

to use the baseball

terminology that

Mom never knew--

she sacrificed.


Thirty years later,

as I use my "Catfish"

glove to play catch

with a wife,

a son,

and a daughter, 

I recall a mother's love

and how twenty-five

dollars

was a bargain after all.


                                      (12/10/2001)