From the age of 2 months to 7-years-old, we lived in Texas City and Hitchcock (a small community near Texas City). A few times a year, we would get in the car and drive to the Astrodome. These are some of the greatest memories I have with my dad. Our seats--usually the outfield. My wardrobe--always an Astros uniform, baseball pants, and leggings. I was a die hard. One night, the 'Stros were playing the Padres. Before the game the relief pitchers were walking in the outfield and my other 4-5 year-old buddies joined me in yelling their names. I was screaming, "Goose...Goose..." He turned, looked, and with one underhanded swoop, he threw a ball my direction. I was young, inexperienced, and in this moment--I was in a state of shock. The ball was coming straight for my face and I was paralyzed. That is when my dad reached out his hand and grabbed the ball. We never got the ball signed, but I still have it in my garage.
Yesterday, he was voted into the Hall of Fame.
Yesterday, I went home after work. I walked in, kissed Kayci, patted Truitt on the head, and sat down on the couch. Truitt was busy playing with some of his new toys. But as soon as I sat down, he crawled all the way over to me, reached out his hand and grabbed my leg. This was a moment that I have always dreamed about--coming home from work and my child wants to be in my arms. I won't lie--I teared up. I can't wait to take him to his first baseball game this year.