The day before I had planned a picnic in the park we had the memorial service for my mother.
I had borrowed the world from the woman who would later give it to me instead of tossing it out in the trash. Her and I had been assistants in a week-long summer camp where i was the game coordinator. She had gotten the giant game-ball from a school system that had retired the world because of its liability.
If I had not planned a picnic, on a whim, I may have never been called to save the world. The woman knew that I liked interacting with the world and when she tired of dragging the pile of canvas and rubber around her basement. She gave me the chance to save it from the garbage pile.
I had called everyone I knew to come enjoy a Sunday playing games and socialize, for no particular reason..
There was an egg-toss, sack races, watermelon eating contest, water balloon games, volleyball, and more.
Hundreds showed up, much to my surprise. Coordinating the activities was a great thing to occupy my mind just four days after loosing my mother. It was also a fine way to honor her.
Today,twenty six years later, I am back at the pavilion and field where, in a way, the seed was planted looking back.