I picked Julia up for speech therapy. She was absent, unavailable during part of speech. I asked Kara to describe what she saw. What she came up with was not all that different than what I had said. Julia just leaves, checks out, goes away. She is unavailable to conversation, directions. When she comes back, she is silly, sometimes affectionate. Sometimes it does seem that she knows what she is doing. Maybe triggering it. Could she do that? Where is she going?
She got nothing done in speech therapy. Damn.
We had an extra hour before therapists were to come to the house, so we headed for the park next to the zoo. She chose the park and headed for swings. She had fun -- swinging and climbing and running a bit. I saw a few women that I know from school. They have kids close enough to Julia's age for her to play with. And I like them. We have some committees that we all belong to, etc., etc. And I felt so different because of Julia's behavior. I was different because of Julia's behavior -- Julia not engaging the little girls playing with purses and talking about makeup. Julia hardly answering when the grownups ask her questions, and insisting on trying to get into the little kids' swings when she can't possibly fit.
And I felt sorry for myself because of Julia's differences. For those moments, for that time, I wanted her to be the normal child I had envisioned. I wanted normal very badly.
I carried this around for a few hours, and then I had the a-ha moment of just loving Julia. No matter what she is like and how she behaves. No matter that she is so very different from everyone else in the world. I am connected to her. I have wanted normal for her and wanted it for myself too, but not really. Actually, not really at all. Not ever.
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