The Last Inning: What 13 Years of Softball Taught Me About Life and Letting Go
There's something sacred about watching your child play a sport they love. For thirteen years, I've been the mom in the bleachers, the cheerleader behind the fence, the shoulder after tough losses, and the celebrant after big wins. But recently, as I watched my daughter play her final high school softball game, I realized this journey has taught me far more than just the rules of the game or how to pack the perfect dugout snack. It has been a master class in life lessons that extend far beyond the diamond.
After her final softball banquet, I found myself drawn back to the empty field where we'd spent countless evenings. Sitting alone in the bleachers as the sun set, tears streamed down my face—not just because this chapter was ending, but because I was overwhelmed with gratitude that it happened at all. Every cheer, every heartbreak, every celebration, and even every frustration had shaped not just my daughter's journey, but my own. As Ecclesiastes 3:1 reminds us, "To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven." This beautiful, challenging, unforgettable season was closing, making room for something new.
The journey wasn't always smooth. During my daughter's sophomore year, the team faced extraordinary challenges when their home field repeatedly flooded with sewage. They couldn't play a single home game that season—not even senior night for the graduating players. They lost funding, faced increased transportation costs, and dealt with administrative indifference. Add injuries, tough losses, and fierce competition, and it would have been easy to quit. But they didn't. They leaned in harder, practiced more intensely, and demonstrated what legendary coach Pat Summitt meant when she said, "It's not what you achieve, it's what you overcome. That's what defines your career."
From this remarkable journey, I've identified four key lessons that apply far beyond the softball field. First, grit wins long-term. Angela Duckworth's research proves that passion and perseverance for long-term goals predict success better than talent or IQ. My daughter's 13-year softball journey wasn't a sprint but a marathon of consistent effort and determination. Second, true leadership is about influence, not titles. As a catcher and co-captain, my daughter didn't need a badge to lead—her energy, encouragement, and example inspired others, embodying John Maxwell's principle that leadership is about influencing others to reach beyond what they think possible.
Third, teamwork truly multiplies strength. While individual achievements like home runs are impressive, the most powerful plays happen when teammates know each other's strengths and weaknesses and work together seamlessly. And fourth, perhaps most impactfully, your attitude is your superpower. I'll never forget watching my daughter call out to her teammates in the dugout not for water, but to get up, get excited, and cheer on their teammates on the field. She understood that energy and attitude can literally change the outcome of an inning—that's not just motivational fluff, it's practical fuel for success.
For anyone navigating the end of a significant chapter—whether it's a child graduating, a career shifting, or a project concluding—I offer five principles to carry forward: Celebrate the small wins along the way, they accumulate into the big ones. Keep showing up when it's hard; grit grows when tested. Surround yourself with people who push you and believe in you; like iron sharpens iron, we need others to help us grow. Stay true to your own game, leveraging your unique strengths and style. And finally, don't miss the joy of the present moment—this season, this opportunity, only comes once.
As I reflect on all the special moments—from her home run bunt that won a crucial game to capturing her drawing a dragonfly tribute to her grandmother in the dirt—what I'll cherish most is the moment after her final game when she made her way through the crowd to give me the biggest hug. In that embrace, nothing else mattered—not the score, not the future, just the love and connection we'd built through all those years behind the fence. That moment encapsulated everything: the journey, the growth, and the unbreakable bond forged through countless innings.
The final score doesn't define the game. The heart you play with does. And while this chapter may be closing, the lessons, the memories, and the character built will continue shaping the game of life long after the cleats are hung up. For parents still in the stands: keep cheering, these fleeting moments matter more than you know. And for those whose seasons have ended: the legacy continues in the values instilled and the memories cherished. The game may be over, but the impact endures forever.