of egos and dinosaurs

Monday and a bunch of stuff to do. Working on the garden beds last week woke me up. I have not put in real garden time in years now. Oh, I have kept up the garden, weeded, mulched, moved a few things around, but not spent days and days doing all that and losing myself in it. I am excited to be in that place again.

And I see how much ego is stored up in me. I, who have always proclaimed, even if it was just to myself and those closest to me, that I walked to a different drummer, still has such a hard time when Julia does not just fit into situations. Yes, some of the differences, maybe most of them are tough challenges to a normal life, but they are still difference, they are her and not me, and I love her as she is, and her life is such a process of healing that may or may not ever be done, and then what does done mean? With Julia, I do not need a purple hat and I am finding that very hard outside of my very small world.

Julia is intensely insisting on being a dinosaur. Her school aid wrote last Friday that Julia insisted on being called a dinosaur and told them that she hated her hair, hated her face, and hated being a girl. My heart hurts for her, but with the opening to some sadness, and her new tears, is going to come ways to help her cope. Maybe that way is hiding even more intensely in her fantasy world.

Gosh, I hope so.

This is scary for me. What is it for her? For as hard as it is for me, I am sure I know nothing of what she must do to find herself, to heal.

Are there enough prayers in heaven?