Once Upon a Time

Once upon a time, I was completely unaware.  I thought I was enlightened.  I had a college degree.  I had a best friend who had epilepsy and hydrocephalus and then later a son with autism.  I had a cousin with down syndrome.  I had a mother with scleroderma and whose health deteriorated right before my very eyes, a mother who went from a healthy vital woman I hardly remembered was sick to a woman dependent on oxygen and unable to walk a few feet without taxing her heart and lungs.  I thought I understood. 

I was wrong.  Having friends and family with medical issues, developmental delays, and seizures does not prepare one for having a child with these issues.  Oh, it helps.  I had been introduced to the language.  And I had a built in support system with the shared experience.  I had that best friend to call when I needed her, though sadly I lost my mother before I really needed her.  I had my aunt to offer encouragement.  And my respect for her quaddruppled.

I didn't see the encouragement that way when she offered it.  But her words became a ray of hope for me to cling to as my child grew older and still had not walked.  "Joe Joe was 6 before he ever walked.  He sure wore out the baby walkers though."   It became a mantra of sorts.  Joe Joe was 6.  Joe Joe was 6.  Jimmie did it at 2 1/2.  And now, like Joe Joe before him, you can't keep him seated.  I love to watch him run down the hallway...bounce, bounce, bounce...arms flapping, smile on his angelic face, up on his toes, leaning forward.  Terrible stance, but beautiful in his independence.

I watched Rain Man 20 years ago, like everyone else.  I cried 20 years ago at the scene where Tom Cruise understands Dustin Hoffman (Raymond) was his imaginary friend the Rain Man, who sang to him when he was scared.  I saw it today with different eyes...or a different heart, perhaps.  I can't even explain what I felt watching it today.  It was just different.  It was...enlightened.  I cried very hard. 

Charlie stood at my side with his hand on my knee and a look of worry on his little face.  He's my angel too.  I looked at him and saw his concern.  I smiled and patted his cheek and told him I am just being silly.  The movie made me cry, but I am okay.  He breathed a sigh, and smiled back up at my tear stained face, and I swear I heard the relief in his little voice as he quipped, "Bye bye?" because he wanted to go outside.  I said, "Yes, let's go bye bye."  And then he was 2 again and happy to be going out.  I am so proud of him.  He takes such good care of  his brother and of me.  He is going to be a very caring young man and adult.  I know it.  I saw it when I turned away from the tv and to his face. 

Have I really changed?  Yes, I think I have.  It's not anything I can explain.  It's something inside of me.  It's wrapped up in love and understanding and maternal instincts.  Once upon a time I would have been more eloquent, but I still would have missed the point.