The days dwindle down to a precious few...and it is a good thing

The Cardinals are in their last week of play for 2008. Officially earlier in the week, the math told us it was impossible for them to win the Wild Card. We kinda knew that already. I agree with many, if the month of September could just be taken out of the mix, Tony LaRussa did his greatest job of managing this year. With SO many injuries and new players, the Cards still hung in there till the last three weeks.

Oh, by the way, I love my Cardinals. This time of the year as their games dwindle down to a precious few, whether or not at the end of the regular season or at the end of the World Series, I have had a real let down. I watched more games this year (on my MLB Sports InDemand Cable package...well worth my money) because of my being off for two months, and I could arrange my days even better around day and night games. No kidding.

Three years ago about now, and into October 2005, I experienced my first real bout with this depression/anxiety thing. I thought it was because of the new position and its new patterns that I had not yet become accustomed too, or to missing the community of the local church, or not being with my kids as much because I was living in Liberty and they were with their dad most of the time since they continued in school in the city. It was not until Thanksgiving, as I slept for the most of two days while visiting brother Sam in Carbondale, getting used to some of the meds that have become my good friends over these years, when I told him about the serotonin not serotoning---that he said, "Susan, didn't this come on just about the time the Cardinals' season ended?" And to tell you the truth, he was right. And to tell you the truth, that made some sense...in combination with some of the other changes, I missed my Cards....hmmm.

In an odd kind of way, the Cardinals become sort of like a periphery family from April to Septmeber for me. And I like it. I am proud when they win, and when they continue to fight, like they are doing this week, even though they are out of the race and it looks like Albert will lose the batting title to Chipper Jones. I like knowing those Aflac commercials by heart. I like it that I can time doing the laundry around innings. I like it that over the last 10 years of watching faithfully (my getting back into the Cardinals coincided with my divorce...not that I needed surrogate family but Philip was and is not a sports fan, AT ALL...so I got to go back to them without guilt when we were no longer sharing the TV) I have made no telling how many baby afghans (Hang on Angie and Curtis, it isn't done YET!), hats for the homeless, large afghans and other assorted crochet and counted cross stitch items.

This year, though, I do not feel sad as the season comes to the end. This year, I feel like it is time. Time for these young men to go home to their wives and sweethearts and rest their aching bodies a bit; to plan and execute the plans for their babies which seem to be born with remarkable frequency in July, August and September (count the months back); and to enjoy those outrageous contracts they all have these days. It is okay that the season is over and I will not cry. It is time.

I feel like I am, as Don McLean said once about himself, "gaining a sense of rhythm as I lose my sense of time..." Not sure I can completely explain it, but I am okay with not wanting more. I don't want more. The season is complete. I had that same eerie feeling (for me) this summer when I finished a fantasy trilogy by Angus Welles, written several years ago. I LOVED the books, and it was okay when they were done. It was time. There have been times in my life when I cried because a book was over and I wanted it to never end. Gone with the Wind and Barefoot in the Park when I was a teenager or the Anne of Green Gables books when I was a bit younger. I remember times when Philip and the kids and I would go on vacation and I would cry coming home because we had had such a good time. And I remember how I was afraid that I would be sad after getting to spend so much time with the kiddos and in our new space this summer that I would not want to return to work.

But it is all okay. It was time for it to end. And time for the next season to begin. I am thankful for those Saint Louis Cardinals and for good books and for vacations and time off. For time and rhythm and all of it. It is a good thing.