Saturday, February 7, 2015

Eyes on the Prize

Something happened and I felt Penelope slipping away from me. The littlest Elf was a stranger to me. For the first time, I was worried I might be losing her, that I didn't no where she was going and I wouldn't connect with her any more. At all. Ever. Again.

I didn't go after her either. Her stick legs dangling off the edge attached to too big feet inside even bigger sneakers, she stared off into the distance. A distance that I saw as beautiful, but not mine. Panoramic views of shifting blue and grey and white clouds coursing around a setting sun, a slight, hot breeze and she wasn't looking back at me. And I should be cursed for saying so, but I was going to let her go. I didn't move. The airlocks were giving me a smaller and smaller perspective and my own too big feet were in deep, soggy tar and all I did was pour more of the goo into the puddle.

I'll show you what fucking stubborn means. I INVENTED stubborn. I will lose you to prove a point and don't you dare fucking tempt me. Yes. YES. I was that person and it hurt so bad but, but, but...

Fragile X  can still be a nightmare. A nightmare for Penelope and for us. Reading her is an impossibility (most of the time). Anticipating her is as futile as me sticking to a diet. She will not be owned because (I think) she has no idea where she belongs.

This lasted for days. And I don't care, days matter, seconds matter! Whatever passage of time when hell is staring you in the face matters.

And then? Love.

She came at me s   l   o   w   l   y.  She tucked her head in my direction when she got off the bus Friday. This morning she snuggled close and grabbed the hand that Lincoln wasn't holding. SHE. She is the glory (after she flings her guts at you).

This baby girl has so far to go and she is so strange and as she gets older in her mind and her body she will be even stranger; a stranger sometimes.

She is my test. She's the one who makes me work.