Favorite Men
There are only a select few men I trust, love, and admire. My dad is top of the list. My two sons, of course. My grandson has completely stolen my heart. And I adore my nephew.
Two of them have impressed me this week especially.
Liam, my one-year-old grandson, recognizes me now. We went to Red Oak to celebrate my mother's 80th birthday this past Sunday. In one otherwise unremarkable moment, Liam's mother said, "Liam, go show Oma your toy." He eagerly and quickly came directly over to me. This was the first time he ever seemed to know who I am. It made my week.
Adam, my 20 year old son, showed me this week --again-- what a tremendous man he has become. We were stopped at a red light a couple of days ago. While waiting, we noticed a small American flag on the ground near the crosswalk -- the kind of small flag you see staked in the ground near driveways and walkways in neighborhoods around patriotic holidays. The flag was tattered and dirty, obviously having been driven over several times by drivers who didn't care. Moments after our seeing the flag, Adam hopped out of the car and retrieved the abused piece of cloth. He felt that it was just fundamentally and completely wrong for the most powerful symbol of our homeland to continue to be trampled and soiled, uncared for by anyone. He took a photo of the flag so we would never forget how little others think of the flag, and as a reminder of the inherent value in caring enough to rescue one small tattered piece of red, white and blue cloth. I am so proud of him.
Two of them have impressed me this week especially.
Liam, my one-year-old grandson, recognizes me now. We went to Red Oak to celebrate my mother's 80th birthday this past Sunday. In one otherwise unremarkable moment, Liam's mother said, "Liam, go show Oma your toy." He eagerly and quickly came directly over to me. This was the first time he ever seemed to know who I am. It made my week.
Adam, my 20 year old son, showed me this week --again-- what a tremendous man he has become. We were stopped at a red light a couple of days ago. While waiting, we noticed a small American flag on the ground near the crosswalk -- the kind of small flag you see staked in the ground near driveways and walkways in neighborhoods around patriotic holidays. The flag was tattered and dirty, obviously having been driven over several times by drivers who didn't care. Moments after our seeing the flag, Adam hopped out of the car and retrieved the abused piece of cloth. He felt that it was just fundamentally and completely wrong for the most powerful symbol of our homeland to continue to be trampled and soiled, uncared for by anyone. He took a photo of the flag so we would never forget how little others think of the flag, and as a reminder of the inherent value in caring enough to rescue one small tattered piece of red, white and blue cloth. I am so proud of him.