My father talked to me and said he was not disappointed in me, even though I still felt he was. He was the one who coached me in little league for six years, the one who played catch with me in the front yard, the one who told me stories about his own playing days, and the one who came to all my games. He gave me the dream that one day I could play baseball in college and become a pro. We argued over baseball, laughed over baseball, and smiled over baseball. All of those memories seemed to be disappearing now. …show more content…
On my first trip I was a bit fearful, knowing that the people in that group had known each other for years and I had just shown up completely unknown by the majority of people. However, by the end of the trip I felt as though I had been good friends with everyone there for years. I knew almost everyone on the second trip, but I could sympathize with how the new kids felt and made an effort to connect with them. On the plane, I was sitting next to two freshmen who were new to the group, and when the plane landed I had eased their stress about the trip and we had become friends. On both trips, we worked on a range of projects from painting houses to connecting with people with Alzheimer's. The camaraderie that was built on these trips was incredible and stemmed from the good we did for a community that translated to each