I went to Ryan’s parent-teacher conference this morning. For the most part he got glowing reviews. He raises his hand, he answers questions, he asks questions, and he understands how to solve problems. Clearly I did something right, right?
His communication teacher (BIG props to Mrs. Schreiber at ENMS) shared his Bio-Sketch on his personal hero, his grandmother. I called and read this to her, then transcribed it into an email. While I understand his logic, I can’t help but shake my head that my own efforts in his life remain unrecognized. Read on:
Now at sixty-five years old, my grandmother is my hero. She is currently in Florida escaping the northern coldness. Her name is Darlene Kempert, but I like to call her Grandma D.
The reason she is my hero is because she shows me that it is alright to make mistakes and be different. She’s shown me this in her actions. When I had an ear infection she told me to use a q-tip, then the doctor recommended against it. Even when she made a mistake she did the right thing afterward, in this case she got me a hot pad to dry out my ear cannal. Somehow I could barely open my mouth, chew, drink, or even speak because of the infection; first she gave me jelly bagels, (not a good idea) then tried easier to chew meatloaf.
So for all she’s done I say thanks Grandma D, for help with the ear infection, for letting me make cupcakes, frost them, and sprinkling them. But most of all, thanks for paying me for working and allowing me to play on the computer.
grade: Very Good, 20/20.
I guess he forgot the night his fever spiked at Shriners and I had to wake up every half hour to drip an ounce of water into his mouth so the nurses didn’t have to put an IV in his jugular. No, that wasn’t hero-worthy, but meatloaf was. Yeah, I’ll remember that when I’m writing his college tuition check.