Making mum proud

goofyjrjrfunkpen-large.gifMy Friday the 13th started very early, taking Graydon to Sick Kids for a test that was scheduled to run anywhere from three to six hours, and was rumoured to be horrible. (On a purely selfish level, I had to drive, park, walk, register and be by his side without coffee, since he was fasting and I can’t be that cruel. It was my own teeny, tiny slice of hell.)

Graydon, contrary to my darkest suspicions that he would bolt, or flip out, or refuse to do what he was supposed to, did fabulously. He schlepped around in one of those ghastly blue gowns, drank what he was given, stood this way and that, laid down, turned around, did everything short of standing on his head.

In between scans, he used one of his greatest gifts—the ability to get a smile—on every child he came in contact with. One little girl, 14 months old, had had nothing by mouth since midnight, and it was now 10:30. She was twisting in both mom and dad’s arms, crying, frustrated and miserable. Graydon engaged her with the old hands-over-the-eyes-and-PEEK! until she was playing along, fully distracted. He kept that up for at least five minutes. At another clinic waiting area, he emptied his backpack of coloured pens and highlighters and a goofy pen with a rubber head and kept two girls busy while their mothers registered them. He isn’t afraid, as many teens are, of looking silly—I don’t think the thought ever occurs to him. And he doesn’t sit and stew in his own angst (of which he has excess). He knows what it feels like to be at a hospital, where things are strange, and sounds and smells are weird, and you don’t feel well. He has the ability to create a connection with a child, gets him or her to look, engage, to smile, maybe laugh, relax and just play.

Every time Graydon does this, and he does it all the time, it makes my heart swell. That he can have gone through the crap he has, and is still going through, yet he can forget that and go to the innocent centre of himself and draw other vulnerable children out, leaves me so proud.

It makes me confident that he will beat all the things that life is throwing in his path.

And now, I must go and do some engaging of my own—getting Saint G. out of bed. Yuk! Wish me luck!

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4 Responses

  1. Sounds like that boy has some talent with kids. Maybe he could volunteer at Sick Kids in some way … nurture that connection and give him some ideas and confidence to pursue a career in that area. Good for Graydon!

  2. I told you that there is a very good reason why Graydon was put here. Tell him he’s awesome!

  3. Hey, HoHoHo,

    He totally has talent. He says that as soon as he’s old enough to volunteer at Sick Kids, he’s not going to be any kind of clown, but he’ll call himself “Smiley Guy” and move through the hospital just talking, and playing with and getting kids to smile. I think it’s a great idea.

  4. Hi Darlene!

    I will pass that on—I don’t think he’s one of my regular readers. Not very cool reading your mum’s blog—like sneaking a peek at a diary that’s sitting on the kitchen table, I think.

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