Picture Paternal Pride

So somebody's got to pick up the slack around here and I thought I could at least link to my post over on mobiquizoid. That post was ostensibly about the quality of my current phone's camera, but it was really about setting up this post.

See I had no idea when the day started Saturday that I would for the first time ever visit the resting place of my father's ashes with his grandson. Once there I found it very difficult to leave (not unlike visiting the other grandparents). We walked all the way around the lake (2 miles) and every time I berated Hollis not to approach the mud again or pick up another stick or rock, I could almost hear my father warning me to let him be who he wants to be. Hollis had no idea he had help dealing with my dictatorial reflex, no concept of all the things that had transpired to bring us there yesterday. One day he will, and he will also understand that it was as it had to be.

Here's a bonus picture or three taken today, and for the record Hollis is still 3 and needs no tee.(and Stacy was offering nothing but windswept lefthanded junk pitches too)

Sons eventually discover a father's pride is seamless as it spans each generation.