Around 1934, a tall, thin fifteen-year-old girl traveled down the mountain to Murfreesboro, Tennessee. The road was curvy and treacherous, as most roads were in those days.
She tightly held the basketball in her lap as her father drove the hours to the town near Nashville.
“Honey, are you excited to show off your skills?” Her father asked proudly.
“Oh, Dad, I just hope I can make a basket!” She laughed.
After parking the car, she was quiet and a bit nervous as she approached the gym where the Tennessee Mid-State free throw championship was to commence.
Dark hair framed her pretty and delicate face, but behind her chestnut eyes hid a fierce competitor. She was highly competitive, but more importantly, she always believed that “she could.”
She positioned the toes of her white high tops up to the free-throw line and dribbled the ball momentarily. She took a deep breath as she threw the first ball and watched it swoosh through the hoop.
She would sink 48 out of 50 free throws that day and walk away with the Champions trophy.
Lesson Learned: Always believe in your ability.
The car ambled back up the mountain to her tiny hometown of Monterey. That same year, she and her best friend, Violet, would lead their high school team to victory and claim the Tennessee Mid-State Basketball Championship.
Lesson Learned: Always be a team player.
Within a year, she started to play tennis. Her methodical play and competitive nature forged her into a solid tennis champion. None of her peers could beat her. On the court, a picture of her holding her racket, dressed in white, was back in the hometown paper.
She graduated from high school at the age of fifteen. She was the class Valedictorian and voted “Most Athletic.”
Lesson Learned: Intelligence combined with practice makes a grand champion.
The years passed, and soon babies and caring for others replaced the athlete’s world of sport. However, occasionally, she would pick up a ball or swing a racket.
One day, at age 40, she declared she would learn to play golf.
Her children asked, “Mom, aren’t you too old to learn a new sport?” They temporarily forgot who they were questioning.
This ancient mother had won two club championships by the time she was 45 years old.
Lesson Learned: One is always young enough to start something new.
She would play golf until she was in her early eighties. Then one day, sports were over, and her life was never quite the same.
After she broke her hip at age 89, she required physical rehabilitation. It was difficult for her to absorb the reality that her frail body was failing her, and depression began. One afternoon while in rehab, her physical therapist handed her a basketball after she noticed the dark eyes of her patient staring at the orange ball in the corner.
The therapist placed the ball in her lap while the former athlete sat in the wheelchair. Immediately, the champion picked up the ball and threw it accurately into the arms of her amazed therapist. They played basketball daily until the depression lifted and the hip healed.
Lesson Learned: The body may fall, but the spirit within will lift you.
Within a year, she approached the last days of her life. The elderly athlete was a mere shadow of her former self. Her fierceness was gone, and she was ready to go to her eternal home.
On a Sunday night in late June 2010, I took this woman’s hand into mine. Her eyes remained closed as I whispered, “Mother, I don’t know if you can hear me, but go on to Heaven. Run like the wind, and don’t look back.”
I had walked away from Mom’s bedside for a few minutes when the Hospice nurse ran toward me.
“Miss Lynn, your mother has passed! I have been working with Hospice for 25 years and have never seen anything like this! Your mother was hot and perspiring as if she had been running when she took her last breath!
Through my tears, somewhere was a smile in my heart.
Lesson Learned: Life continues, and joy returns.
When I reach Heaven, I will quickly recognize my mother as she strolls toward me holding a basketball, tennis racquet, or golf club.
“You ready to play?” she asks.
“Yes, Mom, but I forgot to tell you something before you ran home.”
“What is that?” she looks puzzled.
“Mom, you were the best coach and the finest athlete I ever knew.”
Elizabeth Pugh Walker 7/20/1919 – 6/27/2010
