A Sign

This was my 5th Father's Day that I celebrated the memory of my Dad and I'd like to say it gets easier but that would be a lie.  There is that empty feeling when you see the signs for Father's Day.  The punch in the stomach feeling when you walk by the card aisle.  I hold tightly to the thought that he is always near me when I'm missing him most and occasionally he'll drop me a sign but I hadn't had one yet.

This year was also a bit harder because Max had another baseball tournament.  A tournament that my Dad would have spent the weekend by my side cheering.  I know how big the smile would have been watching Max hit that ball that drove in a run or stopped the wild pitch and prevented that kid from scoring or the back handed catch in the field that robbed another run.

My Dad was a great ball player and he loved teaching Max the little things that made a difference in a game. So when Max was playing 2nd base and the catcher threw the ball to stop the steal and Max caught it, tagged the kid and pointed the glove showing the ball at the umpire, I had to smile because I got my sign.  My Dad taught him that.  "Always make your tag and then point to the ump so he has to make the call quickly and can see the ball".

We took Craig out to lunch after that game and Craig told him how proud Papa would have been for doing that particular move and Max asked, "why".  He didn't remember that exact thing being taught apparently.  Craig repeated what I wrote above and Max smiled slowly and nodded because he remembered when he heard the words and he got his sign that Papa is always with him too.

I love you Dad and I hope you enjoyed the game, I just wish you could have also controlled the weather so we could have finished the last one.  But knowing you, you're working hard on that little trick so it won't happen again;)