A letter to your grandkids

I was lucky to know my grandparents, but only as old people. At least they seemed that way at the time.

Unfortunately, they were gone before I realized they were real people with real lives who were once young and vigorous and vital with dreams of being something other than my grandparents.

Today I look at our grandchildren and wonder what they will remember about us, many years from now.

The three of them are all under the age of 6, which means they'll rely mostly on photographs.

So, just in case I don't get to see them finish college and attend their weddings and see them raise families, I think I'll write them a letter about who I was and that I was once young, just like them.

Clarinet and drums

I would like for them to know I came from a very small town, the youngest son of a war hero and a saint disguised as a secretary.

I want them to realize I was skinny, wore glasses, had buck teeth, acne, big ears, a crew cut and was too naïve to know I was a nerd.

Instead, I was outgoing and awkwardly athletic in a neighborhood of close-knit friends who I still hold close to my heart to this day.

Perhaps they'd be interested in knowing I played clarinet and drums in a pretty good high school marching band.

That I was really too small to play football, but did it for a few years anyway because it was a rite of passage in those days.

That in high school I was editor of the school newspaper until I got fired for challenging authority. And that I wasn't really college material, but went anyway because it was a better alternative than fighting a futile war.

And even though I graduated dead last in my class, nobody ever asked me what my grade point average was.

Don't give up

I would like them to know I did a lot of things wrong and still turned out all right.

That I wish I'd paid more attention in school, but dealing with distractions is part of growing up.

I'd like to tell them we all mature at different times, like flowers in a garden, and that they shouldn't judge people until they get to know them.

Naturally, I'll tell them about the dangers of alcohol and drugs and driving fast and hanging around with people who don't value themselves or others.

Most importantly, I'd tell them that meeting the right person to spend their life with is a blessing that may not always work out the first time around, but not to give up, because success is worth the pain of failure.

Oh, and that grandchildren are the payoff for living long enough to wish you could do it all over again.

Reach Ken Burger at kburger@postandcourier.com or 937-5598 or follow him on Twitter at www. twitter.com/Ken_Burger. To read previous columns, go to postand courier.com/burger

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