My 9 year-old grandson had a rough start to life when his daddy died. He was 2 years-old at the time and when his mom was falling apart he took his two-year-old self across the room and climbed over a few chairs to get to the tissue box, plucked one from it and brought it to her. He’s been looking after her ever since.
When we were at the farmer’s market he spied some fresh carnations with long stems and asked me for the $2 it would take to buy one. He wanted it for his mother.
When there’s only one doughnut left in the box and he’s salivating over it he’ll close the box and say he’s keeping it for his mom. He knows what she likes you see.
When his mom was stung by a bee on her foot he stayed by her the whole time she slept off the poison. When I came back from the store he asked me where the thermometer was. I asked him why he needed it and he just said he wanted it but couldn’t find it. So I rummaged in the medicine cabinet until I found something that would measure temperature and he immediately put it on his mother’s forehead. He wanted to make sure she didn’t have a fever. He relaxed when he found that she didn’t.
This is my sweet, tenacious boy that is extremely smart although still learning about life and it’s ups and downs and who is often confused as to his role here. When I see that he is struggling I’ll offer solace in conversation and attempt to pull him out of his quagmire where he tends to become worried and depressed. I can usually talk him back to being the shy, contemplative – did I mention tenacious? boy that he is.
He’s a deep thinker often considering your feelings and he responds quickly to requests when asked and sometimes even with no complaints. He just needs to know what is expected of him as most of us do before we take up the battle so to speak.
I’m proud of this little guy so far. He is capable of great potential. And great love.