A Field of Dreamers

Planting the Seed

Our evening with Kent was memorable.

All of us sat at the table while Kent peppered us with questions. Ranger lay at his feet, chewing away at a bone, oblivious to the conversation above. He asked all about our life in Texas, and how the boys began to play the game of Baseball. He asked how Missy and I met and our lives before we married. He asked why we would ever leave Texas for Utah, when Baseball was such a big part of each boy's life when you lived in Texas.

Unlike the silent sentinel at the Field, Kent was in every way I would never imagined - a true Gentleman. He doted over Missy to make sure he helped clear and clean the dishes after our meal, and even brought a dessert, which he had made himself. Carrot Cake-my wife's favorite-how could he know?

Missy cast me several glances during that evening with a look that eagerly-suggested that perhaps I might be able to learn a thing or two from this curious man!

As we enjoyed our desserts, the boys had already dusted off theirs and asked to be excused so they could take the dogs for a walk, and soon they were out the door. As we ate in a moment of comfortable silence, Kent asked if we could discuss our sons.

Surprised, both of us stopped chewing, lowered our forks, and looked up in unison, and asked if they had done something wrong? For some reason, that's the natural response of any parent, when another adult asks to discuss your child.

"No one has done anything wrong," Kent said. "I'm sorry to have said it that way. I want to ask if I can talk about their future."

Missy and I looked at each other, then back at Kent. With our mouths still full of dessert, I gestured with my hand for him to continue.

"I am not sure if you are aware, but I used to have a son. His name was Barry - Barry Durham. He was actually my step son. My wife and I married when he was only a baby, and I raised him as he was my own. He kept his last name, as did my wife-Janet, to honor Barry's father who passed away due to an illness. He was a good man, and my friend, and at the time of his death, I made a vow to him that I would always look over Barry and his mom.

Barry's mom and I were always friendly, but once his dad passed, Janet really struggled over the loss. She was all alone in the world with a baby on the way. Her husband, Bob, had a few investments and insurance that gave Janet some security knowing she would not have to work as she raised their child, but the sense that she would have to do it all by herself overwhelmed her, and she had no one to turn to.

I asked if she would want to move in with me as I had two extra bedrooms: One for her and the other to use as a nursery for Barry. There was never anything more to the invitation other than Janet and Barry's best interests. I just wanted her to feel like someone was there for her and her child, and that she would always be safe. Despite my urging, she said no.

She always said no.

So, I accepted her decision, and started checking in with her each morning to make sure everything was ok. I'd run errands for her at first, and over time, I'd get her groceries, help her keep the house up, and even take walks with her and Barry. I'd mow her lawn and in the winter, I'd shovel her driveway.

Over the years, her grief began to subside, and I saw her begin to get more confident of her ability to raise Barry and take care of her home. I began to urge her to let me watch Barry so she could get out and have some time for herself. At first, she was really hesitant to leave Barry's side. Part of that was just the natural instinct of being a good mother, but she also felt she was taking advantage of my offer. She was a good woman: A very good and loyal friend, and a very dedicated mother to Barry and his every need.