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Life Isn’t Fair
It is basketball season again and it brings to mind a heartbreaking lesson my youngest son, Wyatt, had to learn. Wyatt was born with a baseball in one hand and a basketball in the other. His older brother was about to turn five when he was born, so he was always trying to live up to his big bro’s standards . . . a tough job for one so much younger. No one let him win at anything for the simple pleasure of winning. He had to work hard to learn how to compete at an early age, because his brother was athletic, an honor student, and wanted to be…
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Game On
For years, the daily routine was Calen and Wyatt would come home from school and get a game on in the front yard. It didn’t matter if it was hot or cold, football or baseball, or two or more brothers, cousins, friends, or neighbors. It was most often some combination of the two Kirklands, the three Morgans, the four Johnsons, the two Gulleys and the lone Dillard . . . no girls allowed. The air would be full of voices and laughter wafting into the house through open windows. Balls were always bouncing off the roof or picture window. When a baseball hit the front window one day and he…
