Spring Fever

Pa has Spring Fever and he’s gone home. I knew it would happen - baseball, family reunions, and all.

“Not for long”, he assured me. It’s just that his team has a tough stretch of games coming up and they need his bat. More specifically, his hitting. Without him in the 4 spot, he says it won’t be easy going for the hometown boys.

Quiet though he is, Pa doesn’t lack self-confidence.

“And Stan Musial is going to coach us. He’s a good friend, you know.”

He then showed me a photo to prove it.

There’s a big Van Liew reunion coming up as well. Pa says ancestors going back all the way to Utrecht will be there. There’s not been a reunion of its size for a hundred years. Long before Pa arrived.

“I can’t miss it. I hope you understand young man.”

Of course I do, and told him so.

I like it when Pa calls me “young man” rather than Fred. It makes me feel younger than I am. Of course age is irrelevant where he comes from.

Pa went on . . .

“I intend to be with you at the Finish Line. Besides, I promised Bea I’d return to our Iowa home one last time.”

So Pa left in the night and I’m on the train to Kyoto. I’ve been looking forward to visiting the old capital - the shrines and temples, quiet neighbors, hidden nooks and crannies. But without Pa it won’t be the same.

Although I may not write much, I’ll certainly take photos. I want to remember.

These days, more than ever, I take Paul and Art to heart:

And what a time it was It was . . . A time of innocence A time of confidences . . .

Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph Preserve your memories They’re all that’s left you.