« Drama in a Strip Mall Parking Lot | Main | A Holiday for The Elder Storytelling Place »

Friday, 31 August 2007

Out of the Mouths of Babes

By Matty of Running on Empty

Recently, I took my grandson for his usual monthly check-up, blood work and bone marrow test. He was diagnosed in December 2006, with leukemia AML. He has been in remission since last June.

Everything went well. He is still in remission and for that I'm eternally grateful!

After his bloodwork and tests were done, we usually meet with the oncology team and talk about any health issues or questions we may have. A new oncologist was introduced to us and she wanted to go over my grandson's family history just to get acquainted with us.

"Can you give me a little background" she asked, "I'm interested if there is diabetes or heart problems in the family."

Right away, I started to rattle off all the health problems in my family, starting with my mother who has diabetes and congenital heart failure. As I was in mid-sentence, my grandson poked me, and said, “Nanny, but…”

I turned to him and said, “Please don't interrupt when I'm talking,” and I continued giving a lengthy description of my mother's current health problems.

Not a minute after, my grandson poked me again. "But Nanny," he said, and sternly I turned to him again and said, "You know its rude to interrupt when I'm speaking to the doctor. Please wait."

I then proceeded to let the doctor know of my father's heart problems later in life, high blood pressure, heart disease, etc., and again my grandson interrupted us! I gave him the “Stop or you'll be sorry look,” and kept on.

The doctor was furiously taking notes and nodding her head.

I then commenced to tell her about the health problems of my siblings and sure enough, my grandson interrupted again! Finally, out of frustration, I turned to him and said, “Whate is it? What is so important that you keep interrupting?”

And my grandson said, "Nanny, you keep forgetting. I don't come from your blood, I come from your heart.”

It took a minute to register - and then I started laughing. I just couldn't stop. I had totally forgotten, completely forgotten that my grandson, my very first grandchild was not “of my blood” but, as he said, “from my heart.”

And my grandson laughed with me and finally the doctors started laughing. It was a laugh-fest. How very sweet the words – “I come from your heart.”

My oldest son was 22 when he met a girl who was 16 and fell in love. Yes, she was young, and already she was a single mother with a son who was six months old. I met my grandson when he was six months old and fell madly in love with this beautiful Indian boy.

When my grandson was five, his mother came for a visit and took him out for the afternoon. She took it upon herself to inform him that I wasn't his real “blood Nanny” and his dad wasn't his “real” dad either.

I told my grandson at that time, that no, he didn't come from my blood but better still, he came straight from my heart. And I also told him that a father is someone who fathers you, but a dad is someone who brings you up and is in your life always. And I let it drop. Five-year-old little boys shouldn't have to worry about their family history.

Till that doctor appointment. I had thought my grandson had forgotten that conversation, but I can see he didn't. Later when one of the doctor's brought me a copy of his bloodwork, she told me that was the sweetest thing she ever heard a child say – “I come from your heart” - and so he does!

Posted by Ronni Bennett at 02:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post

The comments to this entry are closed.