spring is here
(hannah and me, part twenty-two)


there is something very beautiful about opening day in major league baseball. this fact has been presented in thousands of beautiful and articulate ways that i won't try and mirror or flat out plagiarize here, but with baseball, more than any other sport, opening day brings with it a sense of hope. it doesn't matter how poorly your team performed the year prior (and the braves sucked it up). it doesn't matter if the "experts" predict that you'll finish in first or in last, because if you are a true fan, you can rationalize many conceivable ways that this could be "the year" for your team. i've enjoyed observing from afar the perennially lousy kansas city royals nation attach it's hopes to a 23 year-old third baseman. i enjoyed even more seeing those royals steal the collective breath from the 160 million dollar red sox yesterday. how expectations can change with just one game. "what if the sawx lose every game curt schilling pitches???" that would suck for them as a team. even worse for their fans that have dreamed of their second world series in four years and have pinned their respective tail to a japanese donkey that has never pitched in a major league game. good luck with that. my braves, on the other hand? well, they are 1-0 with a shortstop on pace to hit 324 home runs this season. that is what's great about opening day. everything is exaggerated. everything seems bigger. everything seems more important. everything seems new. filled with hope. filled with wonderful expectations that will only be met for one team's group of fans come october, but expectations that all fans are able to share for one day.

which, naturally, brings me to hannah. the last couple of days have been a little rough around the edges. there have been several reminders that for whatever reason, good or bad...deserved or not, my parents are not what i wish them to be. to be fair, i have to believe that they could throw the same sentiment back at me if they wanted. "why don't you call?" "boy, i wish i saw hannah more." "i sure wish you were as super cool as ken and angel." it's tough to take some days. tougher still on others. never easy. but that's the bed we've all gotten ourselves into. i wish for my relationships with both of them to be like sarah's and marie's. i wish, sometimes, for just a hint of a "normal" family. but those wishes are fleeting. i am more grounded in reality now than i used to be, and most days that it is a good thing. most days that keeps me from wishing.

another thing that keeps me from dwelling on things that make me unhappy is my baby girl. i know she does the same for her mommy. it's hard as a married couple, when it's convenient to take out the ills of your day on your spouse to always be as loving and full of support as your significant other might need. but all we have to do is find hannah. and she smiles at us. or wrestles spud to the ground. or puts her hands on her hips and shakes her booty. or gives us hugs and kisses. or tells us that she loves us "thiiiiiiiissssssss much". everything about her is exaggerated. everything about her seems bigger and better than the sum of the parts of an otherwise "long day." everything seems more important because it is more important. and everything about her is new. and filled with hope. even in her daily routines, something changes to keep those routines fresh and us on our toes. something as simple as walking to the car or up to bed can be the lasting image of the day.

opening day is great. and so are the undefeated braves (at least for one more day). a little dose of hannah is better.

hannah, you're the bomb.