Family
By: Jack Nettleton
It is the third inning of the opening round of the State Tournament and I'm standing at second base. As I look to my coach for the signs, my attention diverts to the activity behind him. Two police cars pull into the parking lot at Kent Memorial, something you don’t see at your usual 15 and under baseball game. Two officers escort an elderly man out of the car to the bleachers. This is no ceremonious escort; something is wrong. A man has been pulled over for reckless driving. The man is Washington’s former Governor, my grandfather.
In fourth grade he took me to Spring Training; since then we've built a unique relationship. When I decided to play football in fifth grade, my grandpa found a team for me in Seattle. Everyday that year he drove to the practices. In those 90-minute trips we discussed our days, ate at the same Subway, and at 7 p.m., turned the dial to the Mariners game. I realized how much in common I had with him. Two lefties who share a love of sports, trivia and politics. Like my family, his biological parents divorced and he lived in a broken home. When others asked him what he was doing in life, he simply pointed to me and said, "Driving him." While my license cut my dependence on my grandpa's transportation, another factor made my grandpa driving me a memory of the past.
My grandfather has Parkinson's. Diagnosed in 1995, I have watched him change as his disease has worsened. He always remembered his favorite steak sandwich from Subway; now he has no idea which sandwich he prefers. Once fervently independent, he now relies on caregivers to get around. He now causes stress for the people responsible for him; his disease requires help that people around him simply don't have the patience for. He no longer drives, evidenced from his incident before my baseball game. Once a marathoner and soccer coach, he is now limited to the walker he despises. The disease physically hinders him, but he doesn't let it attack his eternal optimism. On his 72nd birthday this August, he wished for "fifteen more years."
I have grown up and matured while he has slowed down and digressed. As I grow older, more responsibility falls on my shoulders in caring for him. Instead of him being "the driver," I now inherit the title and its role. It's the ultimate role reversal, where now I provide transportation and talking points the way he once did. I have grown up while he has grown old. I have seen him battle Parkinson's, he has seen me grow up and mature into a young man. We share similar passions, backgrounds and personalities. His police escort to my game represents the point of intersection of our lives; a month later I was driving. Since then I have spent more time visiting my grandpa rather than being visited. He's my driver, grandpa and will always be my role model.