The Real Game is Magic

Four weeks after my son's death, I found myself on the island of Kauai with my dear friend Mims. Spencer died on Thanksgiving weekend, and it was now one month later and New Years eve. How I had gotten there was a blur to me. But, Mims was taking care of me, and that was all I needed to know.

There was a party happening at Stephen and Susan's house, close friends of Mims. I didn't want to go. Mims insisted and the next thing I knew I was in the car. I remember driving along the north shore of the island, wondering how I was going to survive being around all those people. All I wanted was to die.

Everyone was so happy, and they were celebrating being together. I felt odd, and I felt very much alone. I felt like a ghost walking around. I was desperately uncomfortable. Inside, I was experiencing sheer terror, "How am I going to survive this; the party, life..."

My kids and I had always engaged in a lot of physical activities; and ping pong was one of them. Spencer and his brother Jon were excellent players, and there was a table on my patio that got a lot of game playing time. I could play with them, but there was nothing spectacular about my ping pong playing. Spencer on the other hand was absolutely masterful at the game.

So, here I am now at a party with a whole lot of people I've never seen before, I'm wishing I were dead, and I'm walking around like I already was. As I was wandering aimlessly through the party hand-in-hand with my discomfort, I was walking by the ping pong table where a group of guys were playing. Suddenly, one of them grabs my hand and puts a paddle in it and tells me to play the guy at the other side of the table. "Are you kidding me", I'm thinking to myself. "I can barely put one foot in front of the other right now." I tried to hand the paddle back as I silently acknowledged the look of horror on my potential opponent's face. Whoever this man was who was setting me up for a living nightmare simply insisted that this was my fate. And the man at the other side of the table politely agreed, even though I could see in his expression he thought he'd been assigned to hell. Keep in mind that I looked like the walking dead.

So, here we go; he serves the ball, and oddly enough, I return it to him. Suddenly my body just comes to life and starts playing - playing really well. I'm slamming the ball, hitting it off the edge of the table, spinning the ball, and making my opponent look really bad. "One point and I'm going to win" I think. My feminine nature whispers in my ear, "Let him win, he's a man". Then, bam! I slam the ball and win the game. The men started lining up at the table. I'm wondering what is going on. I keep apologizing, "I don't know what's happening. I don't really play ping pong like this." Blah, blah, blah. Inside, I'm freaking out. I just want to get out of there, but they keep lining up. I won nine games in a row -- and then.... I realized what was happening.

I realized that it was Spencer. He was playing ping pong -- through me, and in the moment that I realized that, I felt his smile completely fill my body. I felt my whole being fill with joy. And do you know what? Suddnely, I could no longer play. I went back to playing my way. It was as if someone had flipped a switch, and I was immediately defeated. Those guys just looked at me with huge question marks on their faces. They could not understand why I was so hot on the table, then suddenly, it was like I could barely hit the ball.

I just smiled, laid down my paddle, said "thank you", and walked away. I went and sat under the beautiful stars, and drank in the experience of being loved from my not-so far-away beloved son.