Thankful: Day Six - Softball

Today, I am thankful for the game of softball.

That might seem trivial to most, but to me...it saved my life.


When I was 5, the city donated the old dump and Bristow joined the Green Country Girls Softball Association.  I don't have many memories of how the transaction happened... I just remember my friends and their parents were excited.  Then the work began... I remember Clyde (Jennifer Williams), Amy, Emily, Brandi, and I would be put behind a truck and told, "pick up the rocks and throw them in the bed.  all of them!"  Man, what a job.

When I go out to the complex now, it looks so different.  I still get a swell of pride and am SO THANKFUL for the adults who spent time building something for the girls of Bristow.  It started out just as softball fields, then later baseball was added.

Softball was my thing.  My dad coached from my second year until I was a freshman in high school.  He was passionate to say the least.  He studied the game.  He watched other coaches, he watched games, talked to umpires.  He took us to clinics, games, and tournaments.  We didn't just play for a few weeks in the summer, we played ALL summer.  We were bribed with Nintendo game systems, bicycles, etc.
We played in tournaments LOTS of weekends.  We won.  We didn't know how to do anything else... that is what we were taught to do.  We had fun.  We would ride in the back of dad's truck (the camper shell was our only safety net) to tournaments singing the entire way.  I still sing, "Oh fill me up and let it over flow..." Keisha Massey had such a voice :)

When I moved from Bristow, it was scary.  Softball was how I made friends.  Softball was my comfort. I knew how to play, I was okay... and I was confident when I played.  It allowed me to find girls that I had something in common with.  Without softball, I would have been miserable.  Changing schools 5 times is HARD ya'll.

When I was a freshman, I moved to Roosevelt, Utah.  I started school on the first day of Softball tryouts.  Yes, you read that right... in Utah, you don't get a uniform just for signing up. You TRY OUT.  Talk about scary!  My family and I was living in a hotel room, my glove (they called it a mitt... I tried really hard to correct them every chance I had) was in a box, somewhere.  My uncle mike gave me an old glove that I kept with me close, I knew where it was but it was a baseball glove, much smaller than a softball glove. I had to do.

Walking on that field changed my life.  My coach, Loa Kay Bowthorpe "Bink", changed my life. She taught me how to play with pride, how to respect the field and my opponents.  We traveled a lot in Utah to play softball and we had a few weekend tournaments that we stayed overnight.  Those times are some of my greatest memories.  Riding in the back of buses talking to the girls, learning about their lives.  

We won state that year.  State Champion.  I am a STATE CHAMPION.  Although I graduated from Bristow, that piece of me is and will always be a Union Cougar.

When I moved from Roosevelt, it was harder than when I moved from Bristow.  Those girls were (and some still are) my family.  I missed them more than I could express.

When I moved to Purcell, softball was again what allowed me to get into the right crowd... but my heart wasn't in it.  I moved from my sisters.


Softball wasn't a game to me.  It was a family.  The memories aren't the wins and losses.  They aren't the plays or even the uniforms.  I treasure the friendships, the silly chants, the tears, and the joys.

Most of my closest friends today were started on a softball field.  I love you all.

Today, I am thankful for Softball.

A Month of Thanks - Introduction

Thanksgiving.  It is and has always been my grandmother's favorite holiday.  When I met my husband, he was pretty keen on the day, himself.   When I was younger, it was just a day.  A day that  my family crammed into grandma and grandpa's house, we ate turkey and ham and all of the other obligatory Thanksgiving meal side dishes.  When I was younger, I didn't remember the guys hunting as they do now, I remember Cara and I dancing on the porch, playing in Uncle Mike's bedroom, making Josh play with us when he obviously hated it. It was a family day.  Baseball was over, Mike was home, all four Shelton boys and their families came home.

Now that I have my own little family, I understand why Thanksgiving is so important to my grandmother. She had everyone she loved the most under her roof.  They were all safe and happy, if only for the moment.  isn't that what we all want?  The ones we love to be safe and happy?  

Facebook and blogs alike are all participating in the Month of Thanks.  It's been months since I have blogged, and let's face it, I am really behind on some really big life stuff.  There is a reason for that.  Everything that I want to write about, it hard stuff.  Real, life, hard stuff.  Stuff that I have kept inside, and it is hurting.  Do I want to share it with the world?  No.  Do I want to share it with my children?  No.  Do I need to share it with them? Yes.  

Maybe the words that I write will help someone.  That is my prayer.  If it does, please let me know.  I would love to pray for you, talk with you, instagram with you?  Whatever it may be.  

This month, November, I will join the millions giving thanks.  My thanks will be posted here, for my family and my friends to read and maybe someday I'll print the posts for my children. They are the most important after all.

Thank you for visiting.  Thank you for waiting on me to get back on my game.  Thank you for supporting me.

Miss Exie

My dad and I met them at the end of the gravel road.  She and her daughter were walking down to the little white church.  The one where you could crank the lever and water would pour out of the spout. They were walking down the road to gather water.  You see, the little house they lived in, didn't have running water- this was in the early 80's, but she didn't let that bother her.  This is the first memory I have of her.

My mom sold Avon (and then Tupperware) for a brief second around the time I was in Kindergarten.  I remember the time, because I took her ring sizer thingy to school with me (because I thought they looked like a key chain and a million different keys) and got in BIG trouble.  Anyway, she was one of my mother's customers.  I remember going to her house and it smelling like yummy food.  All of her things were put away perfectly.  Her things weren't expensive, and most didn't match, but her home felt very comfortable and I loved going with mother to take orders and make deliveries.

We moved away, I grew up, and grandma would always be sure to mention her in conversations when I would ask how things were at home.  She was a member of our family, her skin color was the only thing that outed her.

I never really knew Miss Exie to be black.  I knew she was incredibly short, but black?  I never noticed it.  She was a woman whom had my grandparents respect, and with that came the respect of the entire Shelton family. 

She raised the children of many of the families around this area, the Help if you can imagine.  Not only did she have the respect of my family, she had the respect of each and every family she came into contact with. 

Miss Exie was 94 years old, and until the last month, she lived alone in her little home she bought in Slick after her husband passed away.  (it did have running water!)  She would hear the ambulance come through town and you could set your watch, she would call down to grams house a few minutes later, "Jo, did ya hear that ambulance? Reckon you know who it came for?"  It was a joke in our house.  We will do it for years to come, but there will be a tint of sadness in the joke from now on.

Miss Exie passed away early this morning.  While I know it is exactly what she prayed for, I can't help to be a little bit selfish.  My daughter was just getting to know her.  Emileigh would dance for her, and Miss Exie absolutely loved her "little dancing girl."  How it warms my heart to hear that.  I had a date with Miss Exie last week.  Onion rings from Sonic, ketchup, and Sprite.  I gifted her a 2013 Calendar and asked if she thought she would see that many years in her lifetime when she was younger. 

What a wonderful, amazing, perfect woman.  She loves Jesus with her life, and she was looking forward to dancing with Him.  She and I joked about the reception she would have.  It will take her years to catch up with all of those she mourned as they took the journey before she did.

I thank God for Miss Exie.  I'm sad because she won't see any more dance performances from my little princess, but so thankful she got to see just once.  So thankful, my little, perfect, angel was able to bless the lady who has blessed so many.

Rest in perfect peace, Exie Maxfield. I love you.