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Text Box: A Fathers Day to Remember...

 

Once I saw a grown man cry

“Now there goes a man with feeling. Said I

He was strong, able, quite well built

With muscles, gray hair and charm

To the hilt.

I moved toward him slowly and said

“What’s wrong?”

The look he gave me was tearful

And long

“I cry for a child

My grandchild had died”

So, I sat beside him

And two grown men cried.

                                                        Author Unknown

RESOURCES FOR DAD:

http://www.angelfire.com/poetry/talina/articlefathers.html

http://www.misschildren.org/family/dads/index.html

http://www.mend.org/newsletters/vol3iss1.htm

http://haloes.homestead.com/MothersDay.html

http://www.nationalshareoffice.com/resources_loss_grief_fathers_grief.shtml

http://www.missinggrace.com/DadsPage.html
Text Box: The Baseball Season Spring, another baseball season, the boys of summer getting ready, all in pursuit of the Fall Classic. Spring, another baseball season with weekend games and cheering on the Bronx Bombers. Fielding heroics, clutch hitting, and pitching prowess. atop a carpet of ever-widening green, beneath a canopy of budding leaves, Text Box: and longer days. Another spring, another baseball season, without you. One less little slugger on the bench. One less little fan in the crowd. One less bag of peanuts and crackerjacks. One less dream of growing up to play in the big leagues. No T-ball adventures and Little League Championships. No home runs or bloop singles. Text Box: No slides into home, or game-saving catches. No box scores or pitch counts. Baseball season and there’ll be no catch in the front yard. There’ll be no batting tips or “three flies up.” There’ll be no high-fives or “we’ll get ‘em this year.” Just an empty seat on the bench. Written by Ken DaRosa, SP Volunteer in loving memory of his son Emerson