Over the past two weeks I have watched my 17 year old son make time for his dying grandmother. He wheeled her around in her wheelchair at the nursing home, and kissed her and told her that he loved her.
He went back again after she took a turn for the worst, when she first failed to recognize him, and was again tender and kind to her.
He'll never play in the MLB. He won't get in to Harvard. He may never play college baseball. But he's a Hall of Famer in my books.
This experience has reminded me that what I'm doing as a parent is trying to raise a responsible, caring, competent man, who when he is 25 and 30 and 50 can feel good about who he is, regardless of how long he played or how much money he's made.
Always good to reflect so that we don't lose sight of the long term goals as we are helping our children move through life. My son brought me back to reality.
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