It was with heavy hearts that my son and I worked to prepare his car for a milestone journey—the day he moved across the country after twenty years of living under my roof．

    Our work went slowly into the afternoon．The Sunday baseball game came on．Our hometown Cardinals were playing the Atlanta Braves．I overheard bits of the TV broadcast—Atlanta took a two-run lead as we were packing the trunk．After that I became absorbed inglumthoughts about his departure and forgot about the game．Suddenly I heard the door open．“Dad，”he said，“let's watch the game．They're only down by a run．”

    His red-colored eyes instantly told me that he，too，found this to be difficult and wanted to share one last father-son moment．Without hesitation I led the way to the TV set．There，we found the Cards losing 3—1．“Oh，”he said，“they're down two runs．”His voice cracked with doubt．“I thought they were coming back．”“That's fine，”I said，wanting so much to string this moment．“Let's watch anyway．”

    The Cards got to bat last．First a single，and then another．Suddenly the game became very interesting．When David Eckstein parked the third pitch(投球)into the seats，we were transformed，jumping up and down．That's when the magic moment came．The sadness of that day was replaced by the exciting baseball game，something we had done many times together before．

    Then he left．It was a sad day when I helped my son pack and get ready to move away to college．But this moment of joy mixed with sadness made the day，the trip and our life seem so right．