The text message read:
Morning.
I received a private message from my friend in Colorado. Her body is shutting down and is calling hospice today. She asked if I would be able to come photograph them as a family during these last days. I want to make that happen if it’s possible.
Call me.
A few hours later our daughter Austyn was on a plane to CO and we had rearranged our schedules to help Dad take care of the two kids she was leaving behind on their last week of school.
I recall standing next to Austyn a few years ago after she had offered to take care of a situation for someone and they asked, “Why are you so nice?”
She looked at me, smiled, shrugged her shoulders, and said a-matter-of-factly, “That is what we do.”
Today, while Austyn was photographing this young family as they are most likely living the final days with their mommy, I stood in her place at my grandson’s award ceremony.
We had joke over the weekend that it must be difficult for teachers to come up with awards for every child. But that wasn’t the case when I walked into the room. All the K-3rd graders sat crossed legged on the floor watching as 14 of their classmates received recognition.
Liam receive an award for Integrity.
If you want to teach children to be kind, you have to be kind.
If you want to teach children how to be forgiving, you have to be forgiving.
If you want to teach children how to love unconditionally, you have to love them unconditionally.
If you want to teach children to feel important, you have to show them how to love themselves.
If you want to teach children to respect authority, you can’t speak poorly of those in authority.
If you want to teach children integrity, you have to live it.
…after all, “that’s just what we do.”