No one could say it wasn't a beautiful day. I retraced the path I traveled so many times as a child, crossing the bridge with an uncertain knowledge of where I was. The left leg challenged my steps. It was getting close to pill time, and I knew the Cochranes, both father and son, were waiting inside.

When I reached the all-too-familiar gate, it felt like home. I waded my way through the crowds with the flow of traffic, knowing my target would be just to the right—Section 126, the very same section where my family held season tickets so many years ago….

Back in the 1980s, when the A's were in their prime, many of the parents and grandparents of young A's fans were teenagers. Robert Cochrane and I were two of them, making this the perfect time and event to meet face-to-face.

We made it. I was so excited I didn't know what to say or do. The emotions all around us were waves of everything from tears to frustration. Yet overall there was a sense of community I wasn't prepared for. It's been over 30 years since my parents and I held those season tickets. Sitting there with the superstars was overwhelming in all the best ways. Anxiety didn't tag along for this long-awaited ride. I wasn't symptom-free by any means, but I was too happy to live in the moment to care.

The day went by too fast. It was so great to hang out with Dan while Robert navigated the crowds to bring his dad the last meal they would share in the Coliseum. It gave me the chance to thank him. He was confused at first, and I had a hard time hearing him. He asked, "What for?"

I told him thank you for everything. For everything he's done. For his willingness to go out to the ballgame one last time. And above all. I thanked him for those two wonderful kids he made. Because without them. For now, Christine's music has also become a lifeline in times of family stress. I wouldn't have also made it to that very historic game.

I'm unsure what he thought of it, but I believe he understood. I wanted to tell him that for a long time. I'm so glad the stars lined up in just the right order—Destiny's call was met. 

As for the tiny little Sherpa guy on the screen, who was larger than life, folks, after playing Mirror for a year, I was mistaken for his sister a couple of times. Ok. I can live with that. Wonder Twins activate!

Add in the energy of a sold-out stadium full of people who all had one common goal. Let it be known that we are not pleased with the rally cry: "Sell the team! Sell the team! SELL THE TEAM!"

We were sad to see the day end. It was hard for everyone to exit the coliseum for the last time. Wonder twins did indeed activate because soon afterward, Robert came up with a plan. A grand plan to keep the A's in Oakland while at the same time finding Las Vegas a team of their own. You can read more about that here: www.yesandexercise.org. Under the blog section. The title is Oakland and Las Vegas: Come Together. If you believe the Athletics should stay in Oakland there is a link to a petition at the end of the blog. Also check out the Boys of Summer documentary series and see how Parkinson's awareness and MJB started it all. Please join us in our fight to continue our legacy. Not just for our families but for all the other families who love their green and gold. I'm holding on to hope that the last game can also lead to new beginnings. Dare to Dream.

 

Karen Patterson, diagnosed with Young-Onset Parkinsonism in December 2016, embodies The Voice of Mother Nature. As a poet advocating holistic healing, she fights for a cleaner Earth. Her approach includes life-saving tea, shaping stories one cup at a time.