in which i write the parent piece of hank's tenth grade autobiography

hgp (thankful #163)

the nurse brought him in (2:00 am. screaming.)
and stated the obvious
he’s crying
and i thought

what do you think i should do about it?

don’t you work here?

with babies?

every night?

but i took him

and

held him

and now he’s fifteen
and he walks up the hill from the locker room
guitar slung over his shoulder

looking just like his dad

but with Finley hair and green eyes

it was about words from early on

light was first

he made up names for people

dovwaf was a common one

he learned letters at two

reading at four

and now he’s fifteen

and he writes his world history homework

in latin for the fun of it

he was the little man and wanted us to
play with him. always.
puzzles

hot wheels

boards games (sorry. scrabble. boggle. monopoly. chess.)
and now he’s fifteen

and outside playing wiffle ball with his brother

and still plays board games when on break

from guitar

and came the sports

soccer

baseball

basketball (most of one season)

football

and now he’s fifteen
and i can’t remember the time
before bleachers
team pictures
team snacks
and yelling
here we go hank

church. always church. since he was two weeks old

and there was

nursery (with copious tears)

big church

sunday school

racing those RA cars

that he and his dad worked on together

knowing Jesus

and now he’s fifteen

and it’s youth band

rocking out on his acoustic

getting to know the microphone

praising

he was shy before middle school
really.
hanging back
speaking little
never wanting to stand out
no, really.
and now he’s fifteen
and there’s the
dolphins jacket
volunteering in class
leading fca. latin club. youth band.
painting himself green for a basketball game
going for the laugh
being
hank.

linking up with:

ann for 1000 gifts
jen for soli deo gloria