“Do not wait for life. Do not long for it. Be aware, always and at every moment, that the miracle is in the here and now.” Marcel Proust
Click, click. The snaps of Q’s harness clicked into place as my fingers fumbled on his high chair this morning. My eyes brimmed with tears.
Beyond the loud voices in my head, telling me this was a “teaching moment,” I could hear my own voice shaky with fake confidence.
“Bug, Emma is going to have a much harder time with words than you. She will need pictures, so we are using them so she can tell us what she wants.”
The tears flow.
“Emma is special. She can’t talk like you can. She needs help. We have to both help teach her to tell us what she wants.”
Emma is behind us, now vocalizing in multiple inflections and decibels as if to say, “yes, yes, it’s true, but I have so much to say, you just can’t understand me: yet.”
The pictures of strawberries, blueberries, and bread lay scattered on the table.
I laid my head in Q’s lap as I squatted in front of him in his chair with my repeated vow of “not making this his problem, and not parenting your parent,” running through my head, but I couldn’t stop it, it was the moment. I could feel his tiny hands on my head, holding it as my tears flowed. I had never envisioned having to tell one of my twin minis that his sister was different than him. That she might never be the same. That we would need to work together to help her. I had never envisioned that my 3 year old little boy would hold my head in his lap and comfort me well beyond his 3 years.
My mind, heart and soul were alive in that moment. I was grateful for his compassionate soul, grateful that E chose that moment to speak up, grateful that we could be a family, grateful that we had the awareness to know enough that these pictures might become her means of speaking. But, knowledge does not always bring peace. Sometimes each bit of knowing brings grappling with acceptance.
As the three of us sat at the table this morning, I grappled with my own acceptance. Grappled with not feeling overwhelmed. With not looking so far into the future that I would be bowled over the magnitude of what might be or never be.
In 2 days, it is my second favorite holiday of the year; Thanksgiving. My family always loved Thanksgiving. My Grandma and Mom always made a big deal of Thanksgiving. Emma Grace is their namesake. She brings gratitude everywhere she goes. Q brings gratitude and gentleness everywhere he goes. They are what is means to be thankful. To feel thankful. They bring a new meaning for me to be and feel thankful.
KSP and I are the lucky beneficiaries of understanding moments of gratitude. Of looking at things and moments differently than we might have seen them before. It has made me a better person. Want to be a better person. To live in the moment, to believe that every moment can be something. I wish you all those moments today and each day. The recognition that a moment, perhaps not every moment, but many moments can be something. A miracle or just special. Happy Thanksgiving to you. Thank you for giving me many moments of gratitude over the past year. For love, support, and just being here. You may not know it, but those moments always help give me the nugget to remind me that each day can be “anewfavoriteday,” and I wish exactly the same for you.
Happy Thanksgiving from our family to yours.
Cover image shared from http://www.dryicons.com