From a week after Gordie’s passing through the rest of March, it rained like hell. To me, it seemed like the heavens were crying as much as I was about losing Gordie. In our town, a rainy March means a postponement of Little League Opening Day. Nathan plays in the same Little League in which several of Gordie’s family members played. Gordie’s Dad had also been very involved in the league when Gordie’s younger brother played. His Dad is actually in the League’s Hall of Fame. After Gordie’s death, the League reached out to Gordie’s sister and asked if Nathan would throw the first pitch at the Opening Day ceremony.
“Hey Bud. The Little League called and they want you to throw the first pitch at Opening Day this year”, I told Nathan.
Nathan looked at me with his big brown eyes.
“But I don’t know how to pitch. I’m only six”, he said.
I could not help but smile.
“Well, everyone will know that you are young. They are not expecting you to pitch like a big kid. Just throw the ball to whomever is catching at home plate”, I said.
He sat there looking at me for a minute. I could tell he was thinking.
“OK. I’ll do it” he answered.
Opening Day was postponed several times due to the rain. But in April, the rains went away and Opening Day was on.
The morning of Opening Day I got Nathan dressed in his Orioles uniform. My Dad took him outside to throw the ball to warm up before we left for the ceremony. We drove to the field, which is located at the same middle school I attended so many years ago. I took Nathan to find his team. Once we found his team, I bent down in front of him.
“Good luck Bud. You will do great”, I said. I gave him a little tap on the brim of his baseball cap.
“OK Mom. I’ll see you later.” He turned and started playing with his teammates.
I carried Wyatt over to the main field and found Gordie’s family. They introduced me to the woman on the Board who was the organizer.
“I am very sorry about your Husband”, she said.
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”, I answered.
“You can stand right here on the field and watch your son. He will run out with his team and then his Coach will bring him to the Pitcher’s mound where he will be introduced and then throw the first pitch” she explained.
“OK. Thank you”.
Gordie’s family and I walked on to the field next to the dugout. We watched the teams run on to the field and watched the ceremonial running of the bases by the T-Ball teams.
Then the ceremony started. They started with a lot of recognition and thank you’s . I honestly was only half listening. I was still in my widow’s daze most of the time. After a while, I saw Nathan’s team walk to the center of the infield. And then Nathan and another boy, who would catch the first pitch, were called forward and introduced. The woman on the Board was doing the announcing. She had emailed me a a few days earlier and asked for some things that she could say about Gordie. I told her about how the night before he died, he was playing catch with Nathan and was late to a guy’s night out because Nathan kept asking him to play a little longer.
“That was just so Gordie. He lived for his kids. He was really excited about going out with his friends, something he rarely did, but he always, always put his kids first. So he kept playing catch with Nathan and was late to his dinner”, I told her in my email.
The Board Member introduced Nathan and then told this story on the microphone. She finished by saying “the following day, his Dad died.” I heard the gasp of the crowd. I looked at Nathan. He looked down at his feet.
From behind me, I heard a kid in the dugout say to another kid “I heard that kid’s dad died in a pool.”
I closed my eyes behind my dark sunglasses.
This will always be part of our identity, I thought, the wife and children of the guy who died in the pool.
I wanted the ground to open up and swallow Nathan, Wyatt and me.
They then set up for the first pitch, gave Nathan a ball and he threw it to the Catcher. It was a great throw and the Catcher caught it.
The clapping of the audience was thunderous. I smiled. I looked at Nathan’s face and he was smiling too.
After the ceremony, I collected Nathan from his team. His coach, who had been so great to us over the weeks, said “Nathan, that was a great pitch. Good job.”
I gave Nathan a high five.
“Outstanding Bud. Daddy was looking down from Heaven and was so proud”, I said quietly.
As we were driving home I asked him “how was it?”
“It was pretty cool. I just wish my Dad did not have to die so that I got to throw a first pitch”, he said.
Ouch, I thought.
Years later, Nathan became a pitcher.