M is for Mom

A coworker somberly asked me--after I'd worked at that library for a number of months--if my mom were deceased.

"No, no!" I immediately replied. But I realized that I had mentioned my dad and his travels quite a few times; I'd shown pictures from his blog of him and giraffes and houses made of mud. I hadn't talked about my mom.

She's taught in the public school system for over twenty years now. Kindergarten, first-grade, second, and now third. She's an excellent teacher, Nationally Board Certified, with a Masters degree in reading. You show me a kid who can't read, and I'll give you my mother. When the Wisconsin governor and Ohio governor yelled about teachers and unions and all their benefits, I thought about my mom, staying in her classroom hours after her students left, grading papers in the evenings, planning lessons on the weekends. But she does it because she loves teaching.

I'm proud of both my parents. In my eyes, they're heroic, each working to make a difference in the lives of others.