Sunday, November 9, 2014

The Hero

Dear Uncle N,
Only time will tell if she will ever know the story, but something tells me that she will shrug it off as if she knew all along it would be you.

She's never doubted one of you, ever. She may have admonished any one of you from time to time, but she never doubted the great stuff of which any one of you were made. Not because she made you, but because she watched time and experience mold you into noble and great human beings.

There may be fewer pictures in your baby book, there may be some mixed up memories of your first words, but you got more real estate in her heart, as the baby-- of this there is no doubt. No one even begrudges this, which is why it is so fitting that it was you that saved the day.

Thank you for helping us to see how important it is to do your homework, to look at old images and to compare them with new ones, to ask bold questions, and to pursue experts. Thank you for being wicked smart and leaving no stone unturned. Another day will come, and you may not be able to maneuver the fates, and for that I fear a wearisome struggle for you and for us.

I have no stripe to add to your sleeve, I've no sword to knight you with, but I do really, really get that you were the one who made a difference on this one important day. You are the hero. In the movies, the hero strides in with clanking boot spurs or on a white horse, but in real life, he's wearing khakis and fleece, and he has trained, researched, and consulted to do this one thing that counts in this moment as if his whole life prepared him for the day.

Thank you for being you.


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