She Loved Wimbledon
It is that time of year again. Wimbledon. My mom was not only a fan of the royal family, the history of the World War, and the role that Europe played in it. She loved tennis. I can even remember a time when I was young, I was kicked out of PE class, and my mom took my side. She volunteered to be in charge of PE, and probably a hefty “donation” by my dad kept me enrolled in that school.
She took me bowling, I rode that crazy pony of mine, and we played tennis. Funny how much we laughed as we both stunk at the sport. But when she stood up for me, changed her every day life for me, it is a memory that I will hold dear to my heart until I myself am lying next to her.
As the years rolled by, the seasons turned in record speeds, and she became more of a gardner than a sportswoman, but she always watched Wimbledon. Every year, no doubt. That TV was on in the middle of the night so she could see the matches live. She would make cute little comments like “that man sure has a cute body.” “His legs are just too hairy.” They always made me laugh. That would spur her even further, until we would both start making comments that were on the verge of inappropriate. Those summer days were some of the best memories of my life.
Today was the first time in two seasons that I had the nerve to watch Wimbledon. I was watching the hometown favorite, Murray. My mom loved him even though she thought that maybe his eyes were just a tad too close together. But cheer she did. One of her dreams was to one day see a match live. It saddens me that this dream never came true for her. One day, I will make that trip for her, and I will go to a match. I am sure it will be the first day. The games with people almost out of the crowd playing. The level will not be fantastic, it will take a lot of money, but I will make it there because of the love I had for her.
Of course she had other quirky loves like rodeos. I will let that one be just for her. She would watch hockey even though she didn’t understand one rule, but she loved that they were allowed to hit each other. That one I can do. But nothing EVER took the number one place in her heart like the Wimbledon matches.
I have been to London but once. It was only for a few days on our way home from Holland. I wanted to see where it was played, but the rain, our fatigue, and my grief prevented that trip from happening. But one day... One day I will be in those stands and will be the one that is cheering and crying at the same time.
There will be a moment that I say in my heart, “We are here, Mom. It is great! Thank you so much for giving me the love for this game." I won’t miss watching another, but I will always miss her when I here the announcer say “game, match!”
The flight home will be quiet, my heart will be heavy, but I will have made a bucket list of hers a reality. She would have really loved that. But not more than she loved that game!
Have a great weekend! Don’ forget that art work is tomorrow. We will talk again next week. Ruth