Saturday, October 6, 2012

Childhood, Revisited

The last time I walked to school with the kids with any regularity, my first-grader son would trudge along, and he often wanted to hold hands--even though I was pushing a stroller with my daughter in it, even though I was constantly urging him to pick up the pace.

I've started to walk the kids to school in the morning again, about once a week. My son, now 10 years old, dashes out the door as soon as he sees the neighborhood pack of boys walking up the street. I don't see him until after school. My daughter hesitates as I come down our front steps, then she hurries up the road to walk with her friend. She does want me to wait in line at school with her, so right before she gets to the school, she stops and waits, until she sees me and my cane.

I remember walking to school many years ago with my two sisters. I was the youngest. Every four or five steps, I would have to run to catch up. Sometimes I can hear my own childish voice:

"Wait, wait!" I say with panic in my voice, "I can't keep up!"


  1. What a bitter-sweet story. I never get tired of reading about the human aspect of recovery.

  2. I have always been grateful that my children were already 20-somethings when I had the stroke. I wasn't the best mother before, and I doubt I would have handled the changes as graciously as you do Grace. And I know you walk to your neighborhood school faster than I can.

  3. I have a friend that frequently forgets that I can't walk as fast as she can. When she starts to pull ahead of me, I yell, "Where you going, Speedy Gonzalez?", and we both laugh.

  4. That is very sweet in so many ways. What I hear is that your kids are growing into normal happy kids in spite of everything that had gone on and you should be so proud of your family.

    My little 22 month grandson is funny about going outside with me. He is not all that verbal but when he wants to go out to play he fetches my cane like a puppy might bring it's owner a leash.