It does not take much to make a life worth living

"Are you going to rejoin the team?"

"No. No, I'm just enjoying being here. But I am getting a fierce urge to hold a baseball for the first time in ten years."

Ed brought me three baseballs. "Here!", he said. "Use these!"

On the way home, I stopped at a neighborhood park, where I knew there was a large, grassy field, almost unused. I aimed for a spot in the grass, not so much to hit the spot, but to discover whether, like a golfer with the yips, I could not even make a throwing motion. I can remember having done that.

Up ahead, I threw at a mushroom, then a tree, working my way all around the field.

I felt like a goofy, eighty-year-old boy, throwing baseballs at nothing.

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