Best Seats In The House

"Best seats in the house", I told Aaron. First base line, 15 rows up, seats one and two. Father's Day. We were going to County Stadium for a Brewer game. Just the two of us. No Mom, no baby brother. Aaron was psyched for the game. He'd never been to a Brewer game and this was going to be special...Dad promised.

For a kid or 5 or 6 with an imagination, a trip to the shoe store could be an adventure. A day at a ball park with 30,000 people was probably incomprehensible. We took our seats early with a baseball glove on one hand and a hot dog in the other. I held the drinks. The view of the field was excellent. Aaron could see the players and hear everything. Aaron had an empty seat next to him.  "These are the best seats in the house, Dad!" For a couple of innings everything was great. Even a foul ball came near us.

I saw the Mom, Dad, and son walking up the steps toward us. When the Mom made eye contact with me she was smiling like she knew me. I should have looked away. "Hi!" She said. Should I know her? She seems to know me. "Oh, hey." I responded not knowing the name and running a quick search through my archives to see if I could place face and name. Nope...or maybe... All sweet and friendly, the Mom sliced into my heart..."How would you and your son like to sit in row 2? Our friends are sitting behind you and we'll give you our seats in row 2 in exchange for your seats. Is that OK with you?" The look on Aaron's face might have been less shocked if the usher would have escorted me out of the stadium. "Sure." I eagerly offered the best seats in the house and without a hesitation I had Aaron up, gathering our bits and we were on the move to row 2.

This all happened in an instant. The disappointment lasted forever. Row 2 was too low. The heads of some people were in Aaron's way. Some guy on the field stood against the fence and blocked his view. All seats were occupied and Aaron was crowded by the guy next to him. "Dad, why did you give that lady the best seats in the house??!!??" I had no answer. At least none to satisfy him or me.

I know why I said yes. I said yes because I was not confident enough in myself to say, "Thank you for the offer, but my son and I bought the best seats in the house for Father's Day. I'll gladly let you have the seats if we leave early." Without confidence, I was always looking for approval of other people, even at the expense of my boy's feelings. Hmmm.

Next Sunday I will be fishing with Patrick on Father's Day. We're both looking forward to the day. I'll do something with Aaron. Maybe there will be a good seat in the boat for him.

Years In Review. Objects in the mirror may be closer than they appear.

Looking back on these posts I see into a time when I was as close to God as possible on this side of life; broken and disconnected from material. Mourn with those who mourn, do not avoid them for they are in God's hands. Sounds like something from a prophet.

Spirituality in any form consistently encourages mercy and compassion in place of success and ambiguity. If I can make it one day at a time practicing mercy and compassion instead of measuring success and fostering ambiguity, life as I know it will be peaceful today. That's enough.

This morning I spoke to a school counselor who was present for the Horizon High kids on the day Aaron died. She is convinced of the significance of the mission of Aaron's House. Ties that bind the fabric of a comfort.