Unexpected coping skills

I had to go to a funeral this past Saturday for a dear friend who passed young and unexpectedly.  I am pretty busted up about it.  The service was small and loosely organized and everybody was hurting, but there was a piper who played to bracket the proceedings.

He wasn't even an especially good piper, but it was what helped me hold it together.  The sound of the pipes is a particular stimulus to me and to many of us.  It immediately took me to the smell of chalk and sunscreen and to the feel of grass and steel, cleats on my feet and sun on my back.

Years ago, Duncan McCallum told me to practice until I was at home in the trig.  Then no matter where I'm throwing or what else is going on (dancers, crowds, herding dogs, funnel cakes), I will still feel like I'm in my familiar place.  I didn't expect that to carry over to grief and pain, but it did just by the sound of the pipes.  It might sound silly, but when you are grieving, you grasp at what you know.

Thank you Clan Heavy and all my brothers and sisters for being such a positive part of my life.  The strength I continue to gain through this sport is more than physical.

Tom

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