It feels surreal
I watch her bravery slip
as her lips quiver
and her eyes fill with tears
while Nick twists and turns
measures and adjusts
Am I dreaming?
Watching her stiffly walk
as her hair moves in the breeze she creates
assessing her mechanized steps
for the smallest abnormality
or trouble or quirk
Isn’t it abnormal?
Watching her eyes light
as she picks up speed down the ramp
eyeing the grandpa-man
with the orthotic and shoe lift and eye twinkle
daring him to race her
“How old is she?”
Watching her move and talk
everyone wants to know
or they assess that “she is doing so well”
because that is easier
than “how is she really doing”
“This is not fair!”
I want to scream
to no one who can answer
certainly not the other moms
on the sidelines of soccer
whose children stare at mine and
whose everyday is very different
Will this always feel so new?
Or will the walkers and the wheelchairs
and the bowel management and the
medical equipment and the hospitals
somehow become routine
somehow become something I don’t think about
all the time
Thank God for the new and the routine!
I watch her joy return
as her smile spreads
and her eyes fill with laughter
while Nick gives her a “high-five”
and she takes off down the hallway
fast
to see the big lizard fish
Originally posted at the HennHouse.