Father’s Day: A catch with Dad

I was searching Father’s Day quotes earlier today to find something to post on Heartspring’s Facebook page and ran across a great quote from Bill Cosby (the king of parenting humor).

Fatherhood is pretending the present you love most is soap-on-a-rope.  ~Bill Cosby

I had 26 Father’s Days with my dad. Not nearly enough as far as I’m concerned, but the one that sticks out the most in my memory is the last one we spent together in 2005. I’m not sure why, but I recalled that somehow my dad had lost or misplaced his baseball glove so I went to a local sporting goods store and bought him a new one. For those of you who must not know anything about me or my family – we’re pretty big baseball fans. Seriously. It’s in our blood. Our St. Louis Cardinals red blood. I’ll continue. I called my brother, Andy, who was living in Lindsborg at the time and told him to bring his copy of “Field of Dreams” to our parents’ house and cue up the classic scene at the end where James Earl Jones (playing the role of Terrance Mann) performs the monologue of all monologues telling Ray (the main character in the film played by Kevin Costner) why people “will most definitely come” to a baseball field he built in the middle of his corn field.

Not long after that scene, we watched when Ray is finally able to have that one last catch with his dad, the one wish that so many of us dream would come true.

Of course I bawled like a ninny watching that with my mom, brother and dad. (I’ve always been an emotional basket case for the record.)

After the credits started rolling, Andy and I brought out the gift bag containing the new glove and like Ray, we asked Dad if he wanted to have a catch. So just as we did countless times as kids, we walked the block and a half to Soderstrom Elementary School’s huge grassy field to play catch. It had been years since I’d thrown the ball around with my dad, and I’m not sure why it hit me to do it that Father’s Day, but I’m glad I did. I think someone was telling me it was important to make this one special.

That August, Andy, his girlfriend Jillian, me and Dad took a last minute trip to St. Louis to catch a few games. We were all busy and debated calling the trip off, but again, I think divine intervention once again came in to play. We made the trip. Our last games with Dad. It was the last year the Cardinals played in “Old” Busch Stadium, the stadium my dad watched being built in the ’60s. The stadium where he took all four of the “Bishy Kids” to see countless games over the summers of our youth. The stadium where he taught me how to fill out a scorecard as we plowed through huge bags of peanuts in the shell and a thermos of Coke. The stadium where all of us would hold on to each other for dear life after a game while crossing bridge that led us to our parking spot (what seemed a million miles from the ballpark). The stadium where, when I was eight years old, the game was on the line in the bottom of the 9th with the bases loaded and (as my dad would tell it) “Katie got hyper!” Oh the memories.

A few weeks later my dad was diagnosed with metastatic carcinoma of an unknown origin. Put simply, really bad cancer. A few weeks after that, my dad died. But before he passed, we made sure he knew that he’d have his place at the New Busch Stadium even if we’d never get to be there with him for a game. We had purchased a memorial brick for him, hoping to take him to a game during the inaugural season and surprise him by showing him his place in St. Louis Cardinals history. Along with a brick being placed at the new stadium, we also got a replica brick. We gave it to him in the hospital one night when things weren’t looking good. I’ll never forget, even though he was so weak and heavily medicated to control the pain, he knew what it was and as his eyes welled up with tears he asked, “So I’ll always be a part of the new stadium?” Sure will, Dad.

To honor my dad the following Father’s Day, we loaded up the entire Bishop family and significant others and headed to St. Louis for two games. It had easily been 15 years since we were all at a game together. We found Dad’s brick and wished more than anything that he was with us.

As more and more Father’s Days pass, I still wish my dad was here to play catch.

Andy arranged “The Natural” – A Suite for Brass, Organ and Percussion (the soundtrack to the film) a few years ago, which he dedicated to my dad. He created a DVD of the performance (composer Randy Newman gave his blessing for a one-time only gig) and at the end is a collection of photos of my dad, our family and the love we all share for the St. Louis Cardinals. It’s pretty awesome.

Now that Travis and I have Lillian, Father’s Day has a new special meaning. Watching Trav with Lillian fills my heart, but there will always be something missing on Father’s Day – a catch with my dad.