My First Aniversary Celebration

This song holds a special meaning to me. Before the stroke I had an encyclopedic knowledge of music, and would spend most mornings with VH1 on the television keeping up to date.

After the stroke, while I was in the hospital, I missed all of the new music that came out. Not only that, my memory was iffy and I had zero retention. Even if I heard a new song it wouldn't "load" into my long term memory.

During the memory exercises in therapy at Cardinal Hill, I would cheat using my long term memory. I was supposed to read articles and then regurgitate the information, but it was hard for the therapist to find an article on which I wasn't already familiar. I can remember one time she gave me an article about the planet Saturn and I answered the questions, but then Robin pointed out to the therapist that I already KNEW everything about Saturn.

It became hard for the therapist to find articles on subjects which I wasn't familiar.

Robin helped a bit. She attended every one of my therapy sessions and would catch me when I was "accessing" my long term memory.

For example, when the therapist asked me to describe the sun, I said "the sun is a mass of incandescent gas," which impressed the therapist until Robin pointed out that it was a song by They Might Be Giants.

The song was stuck in my head for weeks after that. I filled up entire files on the patient computers at the hospital with the lyrics, over and over again.

If I hadn't had a stroke, I would have worried about it.

So anyway, music brought me back from the edge of the abyss, but I couldn't learn any new songs. After I got myself thrown out and was home, I might recognize a song on the radio but only because Robin had sung it repeatedly when she visited. Even then, I wouldn't know who sang the original song.

I spent weeks on the internet, matching songs to artists and then instantly forgetting. If it wasn't out before my stroke, I couldn't recognize it.

I made a determined effort to re-engage with music. I spent days watching VH1 in bed and trying to remember what I just saw. Then I heard Everybody Talks on the radio.

"I recognize this song," I realized (and probably said out loud).

It took me a few more weeks to learn that it was by the band Neon Trees but every time the song came on the radio, it made me happy. This was the first song I had learned after my stroke.

When it came on the radio last night on the way home from Whitaker Ballpark, it seemed fitting.

August 10 was the day I had my stroke so Robin wanted to have a party and celebrate. My mother had ticket vouchers to a Lexington Legends game that we hadn't used on an earlier date, so we sent out Facebook invites.

It was also Big L (the mascot's) birthday and they were having fireworks after the game. It seemed a fitting end to a year of misery.

The first thing that went wrong is that I didn't know what day it was. Friday sneaks up on me now, like a predator on an antelope. I never know what day it is.

When Robin left for training that morning she told me about the ballpark and that it was that night. It might as well been the first I heard of it.

My memory retention is still only so-so, and I was in bed sick all morning.

My mother sent everyone an email reminding them that we were going to the ballpark and asked me if my friend Rob was going.

He had been on the original guest list for the night we didn't go and he was the only one who had not RSVPed to my mother's Facebook invite.

I called him and we caught up. His son Avery starts preschool on Monday. He works weekends and couldn't make it, but it was nice to talk to him.

Robin had been driving around all day and she was tired by the time we arrived at the ballpark. I hadn't thought to grab my walker and I had broken my foot attempting to register at the Frankfort YMCA last week, so she made me ride in a wheelchair.

My wheelchair, the fancy one from Cardinal Hill with the seat cushion and the leg rests, was in storage way up high in the back where she couldn't reach.

She blamed her brother James for that. All I know is that it wasn't me.

We took my father's wheelchair, which he had given us when I first came home from the hospital. It has brakes that lock, but no very well. If I try to stand up out of it, and no one holds it, it rolls away. It wouldn't be my first choice for a wheelchair.

But it was all I had and Robin had a bad day and it seemed to cheer her up to push me in the wheelchair again.

And it got us in the handicapped seating, which at Whitaker Ballpark is directly behind home plate.

The usher was extremely nice and gave Grace a baseball. She got it signed by the mascots, Big L and Peewee. She didn't care about the players or the game at all.

The highlight of the game for her was when of the MacAttack dancers complimented her pigtails and asked her name.

She couldn't understand Grace (who turns shy when the focus is on her) so she asked me.

"Beatrix Grace," I said. "But we call her Grace."

"That's a very pretty name," the dancer said.

Grace blushed at the attention.

Robin took the kids over to the play area and bought Grace a baseball bat and ball set on the way back. She also bought Christian a ball.

He had already received a foam piece of coal emblazoned with a Friends of Coal logo. Everything at the ballpark had a sponsor. They still have the Herald Leader graphic of the dog with a newspaper in its mouth that they phased out years ago. They had an official announcement that they were phasing it out. That was years ago.

We attended a Monkees concert at the park when it was new. It was the first concert they ever had. Christian was a baby and we left him with Robin's parents. The ballpark has a display of homeplates signed by every musical act who has ever performed at the ballpark.

Robin couldn't believe how long it had been since we saw the Monkees. My mother vowed that she would never go see them again, that they were getting old and it made her feel bad to watch them on stage.

They just announced a tour, the first since Davy Jones died, and Mike is joining them. She's planning to drive to Cleveland and see them on my father's birthday.

Some things never change.

Especially at baseball games. They have Chik-Fil-A fowl poles and they donate money to the Boy Scouts. They run ads for the YMCA of Central Kentucky on the right fields view screen. During the fireworks they played "Sweet Home Alabama" and a song by Toby Keith.

They know their audience well.

As my mother pushed me back to the car, so we could spend the next half an hour in traffic, I reflected on many things, most of which were how much I appreciated Robin and all she's done for me.

As I climbed into bed next to her, she gave me a lecture about how hard the last year has been for her and she hoped I appreciated it.

I do, Robin, I do. Thank you.