The Home Run

What is written below is based on one of the most inspiring articles I have read. When I read it, it had touched me so deep and lifted my spirits to a new height that I never knew existed. I don’t know how much I will be able to recreate the same. But let me give it a try…..

Cancer is a word which when comes into your life, shatters you completely and sucks the life and spirit out. I never anticipated that I would experience how it feels until one day John came into the living room, sat next to me, hugged me and gently broke out the dared news. Harry, our only child, our little precious was, according to doctors, having very little time left to be with us. The doctors were getting ready to start with chemotherapy sessions but wanted us to be 'realistic' with the prospect of it being successful.

Harry, from the day he came into my world, became my world. He was my proud little precious. From the day he started going to school, I would eagerly wait for him to return. I knew he also badly missed me when in school. The moment he comes back we used to sit together and Harry would tell me everything that happened. It was our world from then on. When we were together, we didn’t need anyone else… not even John. We had our own share of fun, joy and little secrets. Those days went past fast and full….

The whole world turned upside down one day when Harry came from school tired and sick. It was two days before the dared word started its reign in our house… shattering my world…. There is not a single thing in this world that I wouldn’t give up, if it would help me to stay with my son for another day.

Harry had three rounds of chemo. But his condition was deteriorating fast. He became more and more weak. John and I always put up a brave smiling and cheerful face in front of him, to cheer him up.  He would also tiredly smile at us. But he knew me well. He knew how much I was pretending. The pain he was going thru was catching up with his spirit. It felt he was starting to give up the fight  and we started to feel that we were fighting a losing battle.

 It was then that he told me he wanted to go and see a local baseball match played by his friends. And that match changed us completely…

Though he was weak and was panting after taking a few steps, he bravely got himself out of the bed, got ready and sat in the car without my help. I was already feeling proud of him and started to have a feeling that this day was indeed special for him and me…

By the time we reached the stadium the match had already started. There were only a few parents as audience, who came to cheer up their children. We took a seat at the front row and started watching the game. Most of the players were Harry's classmates and they all smiled at us when they saw us. I could see that Harry was feeling happy to be out of the hospital and disappointed at not able to play the game with them.

The match went on and suddenly one of them came up to us and said

Harry, its your turn…. Come and bat…

I couldn’t believe what he was saying. And I was about to protest when I saw the desire in my son's eyes. This was one thing if I didn’t allow, would haunt me for the rest of my life. I knew it and I kept silent.

Harry went with his friend and got ready to face the ball.

He was clumsy and was not able to hold the bat properly. His friends knew his condition well. The one who bowled threw a slow ball at him. Harry somehow managed to hit the ball. The ball went straight to the boy who was the captain of the team. He could have easily took the ball and thrown it to the bowler's end. Instead he took the ball and threw it to the player who was furthest away from the field. He then came up to Harry and said

Harry run to the first base… run fast…..

I didn’t know what was happening and I am sure most of the others too had no idea. Harry encouraged by the words started running to the next base. He was weak, he was panting, but he didn’t stop. He went running.

By the time he reached the first base, the ball had already reached the fielder. But instead of throwing it  to the base, he threw it to a lonely patch of land. The captain kept shouting

Harry run.. Run to the second base….

By this time many of the fielding players also joined in encouraging him to run. My boy kept running. He reached the second base. And now his friends turned him towards the third base and asked him to run to the third base…

I knew how tired he have become. How difficult he might have been feeling. But I was seeing him changing, right in front of my eyes. He wanted to run.. He wanted to reach the third base. He wanted to fight. Though he was slow, he kept running, no, crawling, to the next base.

By the time he reached the third base and was encouraged to complete the home run, the entire stadium was on its heels. The whole of players were behind Harry.

Common Harry… finish the home run…. Keep running..

They kept shouting and encouraging him. The match was forgotten…

With my heart throbbing and my eyes blinded with tears of joy and pride, I watched him complete his home run. The entire crowd started applauding and his friends all came running towards him, embraced him. They carried him out of the field on their shoulders. He was their hero….. My boy lived thru the happiest moments of his life and he was looking at me... Smiling………..

  

Harry died two months later. But those two months, he was a changed person. He never gave up. Even when he knew he was not going to make it. That one day had brought in so much joy and pride in our life. It is one thing that has kept John and me strong thru all these days after my son was gone.  That despite cancer my boy made the home run!!!