Birthday Boy

Hi, here's my first ever blog entry. I hope it's of some interest to someone. It's definitely good for me to write things down. I have a tendency to forget them if I don't. So here's to preserving my life! Where have I been for the past five years?

Yesterday was my son Nathan's birthday. He's in third grade and turning nine. I went in to bring treats for his class, you know the traditional thing to do on a birthday on a school day. Before I passed out the Butterfinger bars, the class got to ask him questions about himself. I stood in the back and watched. Some questions he answered easily, like "What's your favorite color?" He answered "green," easy as pie. Then there was the question he just couldn't quite fathom: "If you could be a famous person in history from the 18th century, who would it be?" "Uhhh," he answered, followed by a quick "I don't know."

He quickly answered others: What's your favorite food? Spaghetti and watermelon. What's your favorite sport? Soccer. What's your favorite candy bar? Reeses. Whoops. I thought it was Butterfinger. Butterfinger must be the second.

Then there was a question and answer that made even a class of squirmy, end-of-the day third graders stop in their tracks.

James: "Nathan, if you could bring anyone back from the dead, who would it be?" Pause.

Nathan: "My Mom's Dad."

Silence. Strange silence.

Then 28 pairs of eyes turned around to look at Nathan's Mom, the one who's father had passed away. Twenty-eight pairs of eyes asked more questions: Oh. When? How old was he? Did Nathan ever know him? What was his name? What was he like?

I drove Nathan home, thinking about how Mrs. Miller's third grade class really made it all so simple. If only we could really bring someone back by wishing it so.

If only.