It has been said that baseball is the all-American past time and in the present it is as summer as ice cream cones, watermelon, and bike rides.
Tuesday nights are spent at the ball field watching my Mariah & Jeremy play ball.
There is something nostalgic about being at a ball field. I played when I was young and my dad played ball throughout my youth. Now I sit watching my daughter and her husband play with the familiar sounds of a bat striking a ball, the sound of a ball landing in a glove, the calls of the umpire and the echo of "good game, good game, good game."
My mom and dad, brother and nephew present, I see a granddad doing his best to keep his grand baby happy and quiet as its mom and dad are playing on the team. And it hits me ... that is going to be my responsibility one day. I. Cannot. Wait.
