It was a beautiful day here in the foothills of NC, warm in the 60's much nicer than it had been the past 3 months. The warm weather had folks outside, sweeping up, riding bikes and generally basking in a rare warm February day. I rode up the street to fill the Ford with some gas and noticed a guy who has lived in my neighborhood for many years. He lives close enough for me to recognize him around town, but not close enough that we have daily interaction. But the one thing that stands out in my mind over the years of seeing this guy is a baseball. Every year that I can remember I would see him and his son throwing a ball back and forth in their front yard. I remember when his son was so small he could barely chuck it 10 feet. I've seen that kid grow up over the years and seen this man's hair gray. But as I rode by I wondered who that man was throwing the ball with my neighbor. Well, it was his son all grown up, tall and lanky, with facial hair! Now the kids is hurling the ball at a nasty clip and I bet dad's hands are burning.
I saw that very Norman Rockwell looking seen I couldn't help but think about the power of a baseball and more importantly the power of a dad. The fact that this kid, probably 19 now still wants to have a catch with pop speaks more about fathering skills than all the books experts could write on the subject. A simple game of catch can act as a bonding event that transcends generational issues. Its not a video game, not fancy, not expensive, not even hard to do, but a catch with Pop is awesome. I remember doing the same with my dad, or shooting some hoops. My son does the same with me. Its question asking time, the stuff of life and it is worth millions of dollars....no its priceless, because it can't be conjured up or faked.
I think I'll take advantage of days like that as well and head outside with my son this weekend, throw a ball and make a memory or two.
Hope you will also!
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