The Burden Of Love (Jonathan Toews)

Fun. 9

Emilia

I grew up in a little town in Wisconsin not too far from Chicago. We had one middle school, one high school and we all knew each other. In high school everyone worked at one of the local pizza places or the only McDonald's around for miles. Most kids grew up together because their parents were friends who never left that sad old town and raised their kids together. There was the groups of athletes and popular girls and cliques of art admirers and film geeks and I never seemed to fit in with any of the molds they had. Everybody's stories of how they ended up in that little town was no secret to one another. It was no secret I didn't have that person to grow with like everyone else and I didn't make friends because I never worked in that town. I was out of there the moment I graduated high school. Off to Northwestern to get my degree and start teaching as soon as possible.

The teachers in the schools I went to gave me grief, those sad eyes never do go away. Every Mother's Day and bring your dad to school day I would sit in the back of the class as the teachers helped everyone else make cards or listened to their dads tell us what they do for a living. I tapped my pen on my desk as my teachers ignored me, kids lied about me. Secretly I made something for my grandparents every year with no help from the schools. Part of the reason I wanted to take this job is because I know how much it sucks when your teacher wants you to be like everyone else so they don't have to put in extra effort to help with different situations. I felt like a hostage in school most days. I learned the same things as everyone else, was treated as less than by my peers. They looked at me like I was unwanted but I never felt that. My grandparents made sure I knew I was loved and appreciated.

Money wise I was fine growing up. Didn't have fancy things but they never really interested me anyway. The value I found was in things that couldn't be bought and that's the way I like it. From the start I wanted to teach fifth grade in Chicago. I knew fifth grade was one of the most important grades and Chicago is where people truly believe these kids either won't grow up or won't grow up to be anything worth saving. But my grandfather assured me that my dreams weren't bad, just bigger than anyone in that little town could comprehend. And I promised him to never give up on my dreams.

So I come to visit him about twice a month during the school year then a bunch during breaks and the summer. He was in a beautiful assisted living home, the best one in southern Wisconsin. I know they take good care of him as he enjoys his days watching sports and listening to music.

"Well if it isn't my amazing granddaughter, you get more and more beautiful each time I see you" he says as I walk over to him. I have Kenny's hand in mine as we let ourselves into his room.

"Hi grandpa" I smile as I kiss his cheek.

"Hi baby. And you brought my friend with you again" he teases as Kenneth jumps up on the bed with him. He doesn't leave it much but to use the bathroom and to go to the window and watch the rain fall. Whenever I'm here we go for a walk, it was a tradition we had since the beginning of times. He says going on walks clears the mind and heals the soul. But he's pushing 100, it's not like he can go for a stroll whenever he wants.

"Hi George. Did you get the letters I sent you" Kenneth asks. I call grandpa twice a week and Kenneth and him have been sending letters back and fourth since they met about a month ago. I make sure he gets them when I call, let him know they're coming. But they get through a few letters a week which is nice.

"I did little man. Your writing is getting so good, I hope Miss Emilia isn't over working you" my grandpa insists.

"She's not! I want to work on writing because words have the power to create and destroy. I want to create" the little boy claims.