I was so proud. It caught me by surprise. It was that feeling you get when one of your kids does something really special. As the kids were being announced to their positions, everyone clapped. When my kids, Tilley and Riley, were announced, I whistled, and almost cried.
It felt that way the night before Georgia died. We were laying in bed. Georgia was sitting on my tummy leaned back on my legs. I talked to her and she cooed back and blew spit bubbles. I knew that moment was special. A tear of joy escaped my eye. I am so thankful for that gift.
The feeling was the same last year when I was watching Riley play a game. He was in left field. The batter hit a couple of fowl balls down the left field line. I yelled "be ready, Riley. It's coming your way!" The next pitch was hit up in the air straight to left field. When Riley caught the ball, I was so proud - hollering, whistling and wiping my eyes.
One of my favorite childhood memories also has to do with baseball. I was in Teeny League, about eight years old. I had been in a batting slump, just watching the ball go by most of the time. I drew some walks and got on base. But mostly got called OUT on strikes. This time, though, I swung at one. I actually saw it hit the bat on the sweet spot, just like the coaches always say. When I looked up, the ball was flying over the scoreboard. Then the ump held up his finger and moved his arm in that circular motion that means "HOME RUN". My teammates met me at the plate and carried me into the dugout.
Thank God for moments like these. They come along in between some sorrowful or stressful times. It feels really good.
Here's Kaymie finishing off an order of nachoes at the ball park.God Bless,
Dadofmykids
Mark 9.37
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