I went to McGraft Park in Muskegon early one morning by myself, partly to get away from family and partly to have the chance to photograph something other than family. I hold McGraft Park close to my heart - I played softball for twelve years from my early twenties into my thirties and this park is where most of the games were played each summer. Softball may seem like a trivial thing to most but it meant the world to me at the time. I was good at it. A great batter and a greater pitcher. And playing softball meant spending a lot of time away from the tyrant who was my husband.
My daughter was at all the softball games from the time she was two months old and packed into a baby carrier sitting on top of a picnic table. Whichever teammates were not on the field would keep watch and every once in awhile her cry would cause my focus to drift from my catcher and the waiting batter to the sidelines. She was always fine - except maybe for the time the third baseman's 2-year old nephew bit her on the forehead.
McGraft Park was her favorite place to be when she was between three and four years old. She never really watched the games at that point - she was off playing on the swings and those funny little molded plastic animals on springs, and I would watch her from our bench. She especially liked that big green tortoise. All of the animals are gone or been replaced now, but the swings look like they're the originals. SwingsWalking around the field, kicking the dirt off the rubber and peering off across the playground - I could see it all again - the first time we beat the formidable (and previously unbeaten) Mill Inn, the first time I took a wallop under the chin from a bad hop (I still have the indent from it) and all the times I watched my little girl come running from the playground breathlessly interrupting my focus on the game to tell me all about it.
