April 2009

Orlando, Florida

Gord stirred slightly in bed. The warm embrace of the Florida sun comforted his naked torso like a hot towel fresh out of the dryer. He stretched his arms out in front of him and clasped his hands behind his head.

He slowly opened his eyes. He was completely refreshed and rested.

Gord reached for his cell phone. He was careful not to disturb Kim, who slept soundly beside him. He checked the time. Eight o’clock. He placed the phone back on the nightstand. The prospect of more uninterrupted sleep called his head back to the pillow on this lazy Saturday morning.

Suddenly, Gord stopped himself. With a furrowed brow, he reached for his phone once again. This time Gord checked the date. April 10.

Perplexed, Gord struggled to comprehend the significance of the date. His subconscious was trying to tell him something. Slowly, he began to put the pieces together.

It was April. Already. Baseball season. Gord never slept well during the spring and summer. What was different? I haven’t thrown since last August, he realized. That was the longest stretch of his life since he first picked up a ball.

But that wasn’t all. Something else was different. Something was missing. What was it? The revelation smacked him in the face. The dream. The dream was gone.

Gord wasn’t sure how to feel. The dream had always been both a blessing and a curse. He had always defined himself by baseball. The dream reminded him of that. Without the game, Gord thought he’d be lost. Like a man without a purpose.

But he didn’t feel lost at all. He felt good. Content. Completely at ease. Never again would he be visited by the dream. It wasn’t a part of his life anymore. Gord smiled. He felt Kim move beside him.

“What is it, Gord?” she asked groggily.

“I just realized that — it’s, uh, nothing.”

“You sure? You can tell me.”

“I just realized how happy I am right now. With you. At this point in my life. I think it just took me a little while to fully appreciate it.”

She smiled. “Good.”

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered.

Gord realized he didn’t need baseball to be happy. True happiness required more than just a glove and a ball. He leaned over and kissed Kim on the cheek. Wrapping his arms around her, Gord closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.