1 min read Remembering Hootsie

She Loved Baseball

Two women wearing matching blue and red Nationals bucket hats smiling at a baseball stadium.
Matching hats, matching smiles. A good day at the ballpark.

Mom loved baseball almost the way she loved church.

Almost.

Nothing topped Jesus or the people who loved Him alongside her. But baseball? Baseball was a close second.

It started with her dad. He played semi-pro ball when he was young, and somewhere along the way, that love found its way down to her.

So when we were living in the DC area, we did something a little extravagant and completely worth it — we got season tickets to the Washington Nationals.

It was a couple of seasons before they won the World Series. A lot of the players we came to know and cheer for that year were part of the championship team when it finally happened.

She loved every bit of it — rain, shine, hot, cold. It didn't matter. She was there for the game, the food, the entertainment, and most of all, the people.

Hootsie showed up for baseball the same way she showed up for most things in life.

Fully. Happily. Ready.

Older man relaxing in an armchair wearing a plaid shirt and glasses, a vintage photograph from the mid-twentieth century.
The man who gave her the love of the game. Grandpa Blue — once a semi-pro ballplayer, and the reason it all started.
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Gail Kalbfleisch

Gail Kalbfleisch

Entrepreneur, caregiver, and systems thinker. I write about faith, business, family, and life as a neuroextra (ADHD) woman. This space reflects real life—integrated, honest, and grounded—walking it out with purpose, clarity, and God at the center.
Meridian, ID