Those children have a natural reflex for the courts. They were delightful to watch. Picking off half volleys left and right. I don’t know how old I was before I could really do a half volley like that. Their reflexes, like my sister Jackie, who could half volley before she could walk, it seemed. That girl was at the net when her head could hardly reach above the net and the two girls her and “Dina”? playing doubles as little people what a super team they were. The twins reminded me of them. Two real naturals at tennis.
Big curious eyes looking at me and asking, Aunt Jayne, who taught you to play tennis? Gramps took mommy on the courts every day and we learned by watching. Every single day till the sun went down and the lights were on, we cried and cried. OH how I hate the tennis courts. And now they are home, wherever you go they have them and though we don’t have the elders that showed us the way to play by example. We have the courts and our racquets and our memories.I could never think that I would be Gramps’ age on the courts, hobbling around as though I were old, like I thought he was. But, here I am in my fifties and children grown and no grands yet, but little people my baby boys and the twins who are the age that I was nearly getting on the courts. HUSTLE! I hear Gramps calling from the upstairs. Redeem the time! Okay, Gramps. And I will run for the drop shot and feel his hands as it were lifting me the last step to catch the ball, just before the second bounce and lift it over the net to keep the rally going.
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