11 years...

11 years...it's been 11 years since I saw my grandfather. 11 years since I heard him call me by my nickname. 11 years since I've seen him walk up the steps to my parents' house. 11 years since I have seen him look lovingly at my grandmother. 11 years since I've heard him crack one of his jokes. 11 years, which is just too f**king long.

This last weekend, I was fortunate to be able to see my cousins' documentary about the Portland, Mavericks, an independently owned Minor League baseball team. A ragtag team, owned by my grandfather.

To say the film touched me, would be an understatement. First, I saw footage of my grandfather, including interviews,  which I had never seen before.  I heard his voice again. Not just the voice in my head that I hear when I think of him, or his acting voice I have heard when seeing an old episode of him Bonanza. But his voice. The voice I haven't heard in 11 years.

And it was beautiful.

Secondly, the story is an incredible one of going after what you want and not letting the fear of failure get in the way. When you go after your passion, the end result is much much sweeter. And failure, well there might be failure along the way, but that will only bring you closer to success.

If you are wondering whether you will be able to see this film, the answer is yes. July 11th, you will be able to watch in on Netflix. So set your reminders and get ready to be inspired.