I grew up in southern Connecticut in an
area densely populated with Italians, many of them family members.
Therefore, when I met my Hoosier-born husband, Stuart, in Florida and
then moved to Indiana I had a few linguistic and cultural barriers to
climb: “What's a roastin
ear?” “They put noodles on
mashed potatoes?” Granted my husband didn't always
understand my native dialect either: “You'll find
pens and pencils in the draw.”
“I need ah-ree-gawt
for the lasagna I'm making tonight.”
(Seriously
though, I gave Stuart a whole new world filled with eggplant
parm, antipasto, and fried dough pizza and he gave me corn on the cob
and noodles over mashed potatoes. I'm just saying.)
Then in 2010, we moved to Mexico City
and lived next door to Dave and Cheryl Greco (Straight outta NY) and
I thought I died and woke up in my old neighborhood. Finally, 24
years after leaving my homeland I would now live near and minister
with people who get me. They understood things like “agida”
and “anginetti” without explanation, as well as how to pronounce
“Italian” without making me cringe.
Dave and Cheryl became fast friends who
offered us a wealth of wisdom. As an avid (but not rabid) Yankees fan,
Dave hung Yankees memorabilia in his TV room every fall to honor his
team and appease the baseball gods. As his beloved pinstriped team
gained momentum during the playoffs, more and more memorabilia
appeared. If the Yankees won, Dave celebrated. If the Yankees lost,
Dave shrugged and simply noted, There's always next year.
Rocky, the missionary dog who used to live next door.
Rule # 3 There's always next year.
Losing is not the end, Dave
would say, it's just another opportunity to begin again.
In fact, whether you win or lose, everyone has to begin again the
following season. Life is not so different than
baseball. Like any good team at the beginning of a new year, we
examine our strengths and weaknesses, we set goals, and then we strategize
for a positive outcome. In the end, our year will be what we make of
it: how much effort we put forth, how well we rely on our teammates,
and how we respond to unknown variables.
As new missionaries to Mexico, Stuart
and I did not set our sights on winning the World Series; we just
wanted to answer the phone without fear and have a coherent
conversation with the guy installing our internet. However, as we gained confidence and experience our expectations and goals increased and became more substantial. Although we achieved
reasonable success in certain areas, other expectations never quite
made it out of the dugout.
That's life as well as baseball.
Sometimes we're going to win and sometimes we're going to lose.
Sometimes we'll swing hard and connect, and other times we're going
to whiff. More important than winning or losing though, is how well
we respond to each outcome. Will we celebrate with the team or brag
about our importance? Will we learn from our failures or stomp off
the field in despair?
Although Stuart and I have enjoyed the
thrill of winning a few away games, we've also suffered our fair
share of foul balls and unforeseen losses. The trick is to keep
showing up – for the next game, for the next season. After all, it's
not so much about winning or losing, it's more about learning and
persevering. So remember, no matter what happens today, win or lose, there's
always next year.
(In case you were wondering: roastin' ear = corn on the cob, draw = drawer, ah-ree-gawt = ricotta, agida = heartburn, aginetti = Italian cookies)
No comments:
Post a Comment