Kes: Talk About Heaven On Earth

I think it was the green grass. And maybe the maple trees putting on their leaves in the front yard. The soft breezes were refreshing. And the longer days were fraught with possibilities. You could feel it in the crispy morning air. It was actually fun to wake up and meet this kind of day.

April always arrives like a quiet miracle. Gone are the freezing days of January, the February doldrums, and the incessant winds of March. It was like the whole world was starting over with a new beginning. It would make you want to live forever!

And, of course, it didn’t hurt that April has historically marked the beginning of the Major League Baseball season. As James Earl Jones reminded us in “Field of Dreams,” baseball is the one constant in our lives.

I would clean and polish our old floor model Zenith radio thinking it would make the sound of the ball against the bat clearer, and bring the roar of the crowd right into our living room. We would water the ground around the base of our antenna right before the first pitch knowing that would enhance our reception.

But the magic for me was only partly in Sportsman Park in St. Louis, Ebbets Field in Brooklyn, or even in Yankee Stadium. As important as they were in “marking time” and ensuring us all was right with the universe, the real magic was in the dusty fields closer to home.

I have spent the better part of my life retelling the baseball exploits that unfolded on the lot between our house and Aunt Jessie’s, the empty space beside Ricky Hale’s house, the baseball field across from the pajama factory….

Those hallowed grounds held the glory of our times, and April had the honor of kicking off season after season for us.

The Masters unfolds every April in Augusta, Georgia. Those folks in the green jackets have the money, prestige, and clout to play that major golf tournament anytime they want to. They are certainly not idiots…and they didn’t select the second-best month to show off their magnificent golf course to the world.

This April thing is kind of universal. People wake up feeling good about themselves and the world. Neighbors seem to get along better. Conversations over the fence, in coffee shops, at the grocery store, and little league games linger longer.

Have you ever ridden a Western Flyer bike to town with the wind in your face in April? Or slid down a big hill on a piece of cardboard? Or raced your little brother down a gravel road barefooted?

Then you know what I am talking about.

If you were in elementary school, junior high, or high school there was a special kind of excitement. The long school year that had about beaten you down was coming to a close. April was the final full month of school. You could do a few more weeks with both hands tied behind your back.

Summer vacation was no longer a distant dream. In your younger days, you longed to do nothing for as long as someone would let you. As you grew older you started looking for a summer job. And it didn’t matter what as long as it paid something…that didn’t entail cutting okra or picking cotton.

I’m telling you, high school girls got amazingly prettier as soon as April rolled around. And friendlier. There is magic in the air! The highfalutin uptown ladies would speak to you between classes. Even the dull ones seemed a little brighter. They all laughed easily. They moved with more energy.

April could make ordinary days feel like giant celebrations.

Easter was an entity unto itself. Mom would boil a bunch of eggs which we decorated in living color however our minds could imagine. The Easter egg hunt at the Colbert household grew into a war as we gathered what we could quickly, and then threw them just as hard as we could at the closest brother.

We couldn’t eat any of those eggs. They were too dilapidated. But I guarantee you the memories of little pieces of them stuck to our hair, our t-shirts, and the side of our faces are still intact. As is dressing up for church in the best clothes we owned to sing, “Up from the grave He arose, with a mighty triumph o’er His foes.”

And who could forget Pat Boone singing, “April Love.” I thought it was a mandate to start looking.

April wasn’t just a month. It was a feeling, a transition, a wonderful crossroads from mundane…to bombs bursting in air. Talk about life changing! It could make old things new. It could awaken hearts, minds, souls, and passions. Everybody was living large!

My Mother was born in April. That alone is enough to make it special.

And April is the perfect time to sit outside in the fresh air and contemplate what was, what is, and what is to come….and to count your many blessings one by one….

Respectfully,
Kes
kesley45@aol.com