Digressions: My Life in 500 Words or Less

Often I find myself gleaning inspiration from ordinary, everyday occurrences. This was the case a few weeks ago.

Earlier this month I celebrated the birthday of my other half, Rebecca Ricks. As part of the day’s activities, I took her bowling, something we enjoy but don’t do very often.

I’m not a great bowler. I generally score somewhere between 130 and 140, and I typically score lowest on my first game.

Rebecca and I bowled three games. Just over halfway through the second game, Rebecca pointed out I hadn’t rolled a strike yet, which was unusual. I had noticed this, too.

By the time we began the third game, I still hadn’t rolled a strike. While I didn’t focus on that fact, it loomed in the background as I approached the halfway point of that game.

The halfway point came and went, and I still hadn’t rolled a strike. I realized it likely was not going to happen. But this outing was for Rebecca, and that was what was most important.

On the other hand, Rebecca expressed optimism I could still roll a strike. But frame after frame went by without a strike.

Finally, we had reached the last frame.

I took my first roll.

I knocked down four pins.

That was pretty much it, then. I was going to go three games without a strike, unless I managed to get a spare, which would give me an extra roll. Then I would have to manage to get a strike with that extra roll.

Yeah, right.

So I took my second roll, content to enjoy time with Rebecca.

Spare. I still had a chance.

Rebecca squealed with excitement and optimism.

All I could think was this was just fate’s cruel way of dangling the possibility of a strike in front of me at the last possible moment and then yanking it away.

I took my extra roll.

Strike.

At the very last possible moment, I had rolled a strike. I hardly could believe it.

As much as I didn’t want to focus on it, I couldn’t ignore the fact that I had hoped to roll at least one strike. And there it was.

Though, overall, I still didn’t bowl as well as I normally do, the whole experience gave me pause for thought.

You see, the past few months have been a time of loss, change and transition for Rebecca and me.

Along with the loss of three loved ones, we both left jobs and started new ones. After I discovered the new job I took was not a good fit, I made the decision to leave it.

My life has returned to a state of uncertainty as I decide on my next move. Fortunately, I’m at a point where I don’t need to rush into anything.

And the recent bowling experience was an important reminder: the game is not over until the final possible frame.