The Last Lecture

The Last Lecture
made. Any mother of three small children is consumed with taking care
of them. Throw in a cancer-stricken husband and the result is a woman
who is always dealing with someone else’s needs, not her own. I want my
kids to know how selfless she was in caring for all of us.
Lately, I’ve been making a point of speaking to people who lost
parents when they were very young. I want to know what got them
through the hard times, and what keepsakes have been most meaningful
to them.
They told me they found it consoling to learn about how much
their mothers and fathers loved them. The more they knew, the
more they could still feel that love.
They also wanted reasons to be proud; they wanted to believe that
their parents were incredible people. Some of them sought specifics on
their parents’ accomplishments. Some chose to build myths. But all had
yearnings to know what made their parents special.
These people told me something else, too. Since they have
so few of their own memories of their parents, they found it
reassuring to know that their parents died with great memories
of them.
To that end, I want my kids to know that my memories of them fill
my head.
Let’s start with Dylan. I admire how loving and empathetic he
is. If another child is hurt, Dylan will bring over a toy or blanket.
Another trait I see in Dylan: He’s analytical, like his old man. He
has already figured out that the questions are more important than the
answers. A lot of kids ask, “Why? Why? Why?” One rule in our house is
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