I have played the guitar more in the last 72 hours than I have in the previous 9 months combined and the fingertips of my left hand are stinging. Use it or lose it. About a month ago, I was asked to help lead worship at church; Kaylea was playing, too. I knew I had to take the opportunity, even if I’ve been nervous just thinking about it. I used to lead worship on a weekly basis — arranging songs, choosing keys, structuring the order of a service. Jamie recorded a couple of the songs today so we could send a video to the Mighty Henry.
Epic timing, then, for Katrina to visit my family the one weekend of 2018 I’m leading. She was a faithful part of the church I used to play at in KC.
Katrina is an artist and comedienne and storyteller and librarian and rabbit owner. Her stories of Eleanor the Nibbler of Souls are hilarious. I remember listening to her practice one of her sets a couple years ago and my stomach and cheeks hurt from the way she told her stories. She has the gift of timing.
For example, her commentary on watermelon, explaining why there are seeds.
“It knows it’s good and just wants to make you work for it just a little bit.”
The story she told me most recently, however, is a nightmare and there’s simply no way I can do it justice. Her train ran hours late making her miss her connecting train, at which point she purchased a bus ticket, and then the bus was delayed, then cancelled, then located a couple states away. Surrounded by strangers in a city she didn’t know, Katrina donated dinner money to a panhandler, even though she hadn’t eaten for hours. Originally, she was supposed to arrive at her destination at midnight. She eventually made it seven hours later — starving and bone-tired.
The worst part of the story, however, are the transportation businesses who were supposed to take care of her asked for more money to in order to “help” her.
I told her to turn it into a stand-up story and she could make the big bucks.
So, in a way, today’s game of catch was a version of therapy catch.
“I think this is the first time I’ve played catch with a glove,” she said with a smile as we walked to the park.
Katrina used the new glove and I used one that’s older than she is. We told stories while the girls relaxed on the swings. I’m certain that our game, somehow, would make great fodder for one of her stand-up routines.
I can’t wait to hear it.
