I’ve often talked about how I’ve wanted to be a world-class bowler since I was 12 years old. But today, I want to take you a bit further back…and introduce you to 5-year-old Diandra. And tell you the story of how I first discovered the joy of bowling, and of life. 

It’s a new year! We all know we’ve been waiting for the page to turn to 2021! And 

I’m choosing to start out in 2021 focused on joy.

This is as much a story about my grandmother as it is about me though. My grandma Betty gave me a lot actually. When I think of joy, I think of her. She was always happy despite a lot of health problems that she had to battle throughout her life. It would have been easy for her to be bitter at the world. But instead, she drew on so much good and so much positive. She was always so full of joy and very optimistic. I get that attitude from her. 

She’s the one who really got me started bowling when I was five. And she gave me my first bowling ball. It was purple and had swirls.

I remember five-year-old me riding in her red Cadillac like it was yesterday. It was a big car, a lot of room in it. She always had a photo of the Pope attached to her sun visor.

She bowled in a league in Dyer, Indiana and we would go watch her. She was very social. She never took it really seriously. She just loved bowling. And because she loved bowling, she wanted us to love bowling. She gave my sister and me our first bowling balls. And she would take us to league Saturday and Saturday mornings. She basically just bowled for the love of bowling. She had no intent behind that other than she just loved socializing and bowling. It was so fun to see her in her element. It doesn’t mean she didn’t follow the pro tours on TV. In her blue bowling locker (#80) was a photo of Earl Anthony. Her favorite.

She was the coolest grandma. One day she won her league with her team and she was so excited that she went home in her bowling shoes. I always love that story because how do you forget to change your bowling shoes? But that was Grandma Betty!

She also taught me to be strong. On the way to league, she would say, “Diandra, if you cry today, we’re going to go home.” And I wanted to be there with her so I didn’t want to go home. So I’d say, “Okay, I’m not gonna cry. I’m not gonna cry.”

But then I would throw gutter after gutter after gutter and I would cry. (Yes, this was before bumpers were a thing.) She would look at me and remind me to be strong, and I would just find a way to suck it up. It’s so interesting thinking about it now because it really shows me the type of girl that I was at five. I easily could have done something more fun that didn’t make me cry, like dancing or soccer or something. But in my childhood mind, I was like, I’m going to figure this out and I’m gonna figure out how to keep my ball on the lane. Even if it means I’m going to fail over and over and over and over and over.

When I started bowling for myself, she didn’t miss a tournament. My dad would drive our big white van, my mom in the front seat, and my grandma in the middle seat with my sister and me in the back. She kept score every single frame, every single tournament and she was always the loudest cheering me on. She would always put a ladybug pin on my collar for good luck. When we cleaned out her house after she passed away, we found so many score sheets.

She was sick a lot, despite her love for life, so I knew that it was inevitable that she wouldn’t be with us forever. I realize how lucky I was to have spent 32 years with her and that she was able to meet my son. As it happened, she passed away on his birthday. That doesn’t surprise me at all though because she would want us to remember her on a day of joy and celebration so that we don’t spend a day feeling sad for her.

I still wear a ladybug on every jersey to symbolize her.

Just before her funeral, we (my mom, my aunt, my cousin and I) were at the funeral home picking out her casket. I was so miserable because I was dealing with losing my best friend. And then I felt something tickling my face. You know, when something’s persistently itching, like loose hair or something. So, I wiped it. And then when I looked in the direction where I swiped. And, there it was. The ladybug that was crawling on my face.

That has never happened in my entire life. I have never had a ladybug crawling on my face. That was so symbolic. I know it was her telling me that it’s going to be okay. I couldn’t help but smile through my tears. Even at that moment, she was there for me with her joyful optimism. It was so incredible. I don’t believe it was a coincidence.

As I start into 2021, I continue to wear that ladybug and carry the joy for life my grandma Betty showed me. Even during hard times, there’s always space for joy and optimism and that’s the outlook I’m choosing to embrace for 2021.

What are you embracing in 2021?