I’m not a perfect parent.  My parent’s were not perfect, and their folks had flaws as well.   And while I am not attempting to brag, the honest truth is, our family is very respectful of the generations older than our own.  Aunts, Uncles, Grandparents etc. are all given respect for their age and wisdom that comes from experience.  Most important, grandparents are treated as saints.  Max was able to know my grandpa, who was alive until Max was six years old.  His wife, Grandma Pearl, passed away eight years before Max was born.  And we tell the best stories about her.  She was the a really fantastic grandma.  She, of course, always had cookies.  She took us to the park.  She imitated Woody Woodpeckers laugh in her Midwestern church choir singing voice.  She played Uno with us while feeding us pop corn and Diet Rite.  And I always tell Max, he would have loved her.

  I found this essay he had written for school yesterday, and it makes me smile.