When to let go.

So after a full day of work, going home to change, eating a quick dinner and grabbing the dog, and running around getting all the kids, we made it to Grayson's baseball game this evening.

This baseball season has been tough, with me having to work many evenings that Grayson has practice. As a result, his Papa has been picking him up from the bus stop and taking him to practice.  I told him once my schedule changes, I'll be able to take him, but he keeps insisting it's no problem.

Tonight during the game, at which his Papa is a coach, I spent my time about equally watching Grayson and watching his Papa, and slowly realizing that I just hadn't been getting it.

It wasn't about me. Yes, of course, I'm going to support Grayson and go to his games, but this is way, way more important to his Papa.  His face was alive, lit up, smiling, yelling, cheering, slapping Grayson on the back and patting his helmet before he went up to bat. He needs this way more than I do.

I can't imagine raising a boy, being as involved and as loving as his Papa is, only to lose that child. I've never seen him so happy and alive as he was today at the game- at home, his face grows long and tired, sitting in his den surrounded by photos of Lee.

Who am I to step between him and Grayson in this rite of passage for boys- playing Little League with their dads (or in this case, Papa)? This isn't my place. Grayson doesn't need me there like he needs his Papa there. I simply can't fill that role. Nor should I.

The baseball field happened to be just around the corner from the cemetery, so I swung by, dusted the grass clippings off Lee's stone, righted the flower vase that lay on its side, and thought about it.  One of the hardest things about being a parent is knowing when to back off. I'm a mom and I'm really good at hugs, snuggling, discipline, reading together, making him eat his vegetables and not tell lies....but his Papa is really good at telling him when to swing, when to get under the ball, when to run...how to play baseball. And I have to be OK with that.