My Job Here Is Done

This is a text conversation in the wee hours of the morning between my 17-year-old son and me.

A Thousand Splendid Suns is a book that he was assigned to read for his AP Lit. class.

This screen shot is my proud mom moment, the moment I can truly say, "My job here is done."  I know it isn't, of course, and I've still got to get him out of the house, through college, and hopefully into a nice grown-up world of his own.   But what I mean by "My job here is done" is that he has the something I always hoped he would have:  a love of literature that can drive you to tears (not to mention drive you to stay up until 4:13 AM!)  It's one of the greatest joys in life.

If you have experienced it, I would love to hear your stories in the comments.  Do you remember reading a book or having a book read to you that elicited tears?  What books?  What age were you?

PS>  And yes, it does bug me that Grant didn't put a question mark after "tomorrow".    :)
          I'm slowly adjusting to no end punctuation marks in texting.  Slowly.  Very Slowly.

The Old Indian

His eye
His sad, sad right
eye.  The left,
he lost in the war-
fighting for his people.
It was a long, long time
ago.  He was younger
then, and believed
in everything.

Now there is nothing left
to fight for, and he's not even sure
that he was right.

The wooden beam of his home
            (the tree he axed and heaved and hewed
            with his two strong hands)
Now holds him up.

He ponders the past, those days of conviction,
        when the blood of his veins raged for revenge.

Now he hopes simply to live another day.

One eye missing
One button missing
One thumb missing

He's lost so many things, but gained others --
      wrinkles,
                         scars,
                                        gray hairs.

It's so difficult to smile.