Last week when I was having one of those days. You know the kind. You’re not sure why but everything just seems coated in grey and no matter how hard you try to get out of your head, you realize not even you can stand to be around yourself.

Then I went to the first practice for Special Olympics Softball. I had only assisted in coaching the year before and didn’t think any of the Special Athletes would remember me. Despite my wishing that it would rain and practice would be cancelled, I could feel my spirit lifting as all the same athletes from last year started playing catch out on the field.

Listening to each of them tell me stories about their day or new job or how far they were going to hit the ball when they get up at bat, I realized how much I loved to be around them. Then my favorite athlete arrived. Good ol’ Trevor who likes to verify every piece of information with you. He walked up to the field and the first thing out of his mouth, through his smirk, was “Hi Katie.” He remembered me. He really remembered me. I got a little teary-eyed and said, “Hi Trevor. It’s good to see you.”

And so began our softball season. “You shouldn’t wear your shoes in the house, right, Katie, right? Because shoes shouldn’t be worn in the house, right, right, Katie, right? And the auto track is in Portland right, not here, right Katie, in Portland, right right right? And Katie, I uh, Katie, I shouldn’t shake a can of beer before giving it to my mom, right Katie, because that would be bad, right Katie, right?” “Yes, Trevor, that sounds reasonable.” I’ve never loved hearing my name said more than when Trevor says it. Luckily, he says it a lot. Which is precisely why he’s probably the only one who remembered it, but that’s good enough for me.