When I was a junior in high school, my U.S. History teacher made us go around the room on the first day of class and tell everyone who our hero was. I still remember wracking my brain trying to come up with someone who was cool enough to be socially-acceptable, but hip enough to make me stand out from the crowd.
In the end, I lamed out and announced that I didn't have a hero because I was too young; I hadn't decided who or what I wanted to be yet, so I didn't have anyone in mind to emulate.
Yeah, total cop out.
Today I would name:
My mother, for giving up a LOT to raise my siblings and I, for doing what I (humbly) consider to be a damn good job of it, and for deciding at age 50 that she was going to take up running as a hobby. She texted me the other day that she had just finished running 13 miles. I couldn't run 13 miles if I tried. She's a badass.
My father, for going to work every single day for 30+ years without a single word of complaint. Having officially worked for about 1/10 of that time now, it's the not-complaining that I find most impressive. He just did it, because it had to be done. And then he played baseball with us in the front yard after work. He is also a badass.
Margaret Atwood, for writing books that make me so jealous I could tear my hair out, and so inspired that I usually have to stop reading, mark my page, jot down a paragraph or two, and then continue reading.
It's good to have heroes. Who are yours?
One month. 26 posts. A to Z. (Don't know what I'm talking about? Check out the Challenge here.)