"Change, when it comes, cracks everything open."
Dorothy Allen

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Bittersweet

Evil Genius
On Friday past, my nephew Gage graduated from Grade 8.  Sebastian, Sawyer and I went a bit early to get a seat on the aisle, to accommodate Sebastian's wheelchair.  Sawyer wore her pretty, Katy-Perry candy dress that Aunt Holly gave her for Easter, and Sebastian wore his new polo shirt.  Sawyer even wore pigtails for her cousin.  They were both on their best behavior, and even though Sawyer fell asleep at one point and Sebastian hummed his way through it, they were both good as gold.

The ceremony was a little long, but there were funny parts and sweet parts.  The kids cheered each other on like crazy and laughed and clapped.  There were crazy outfits- not so much on the kids graduating, but in the audience.  Apparently short is in, regardless of whether it is appropriate or not.  Dawn and I enjoyed some laughs at their expense.
Gage and his girlfriend

Geoff missed Gage's actual diploma portion, but he made it shortly after and was there when Gage won his award.  No one knew he was getting it, and it was an amazing surprise.  We were all very proud, and even Sebastian shouted (in his quiet voice) "yeah, Gage!"  Sawyer thought Gage was a bit of a rockstar, because he got to be up there, on stage, and she asked Auntie Dawn incessantly "Where's Gage?"

Gage and the Dark Side


Gage handled all his "fame" like a trooper, coming in and posing for a picture with me and the kids before hand, and giving me a big hug and shaking Sebastian's hand afterwards.  I was so very happy for him.

But, as wonderful as it was to see Gage graduate, it was a very bittersweet night.  I watched Geoff's mom cry as she drove out of the parking lot.  I know that she, and Geoff and Holly and Dawn were all missing Kit terribly, as was I.  He would have been so proud, he wouldn't have sat down the entire time, standing near the front, taking pictures.  He would have been making loud and inappropriate comments and jokes through most of it.  He probably would have spent some time outside playing soccer with Roan.  His presence was felt, and missed.  It's been 2 months.  Sometimes it seems like 2 years, others- 2 days.  So much seems to have happened that he has missed, stuff that I probably never would have thought twice about if he were still here.  But with him being gone, everything is more poignant, more heightened.  I guess I just wish he were here.

But for me, it was sad in other ways. As I st and watched these kids walk across the stage, some of them achieving so much, I could feel my heart aching.  I can't help but think about what I will miss with Sebastian.  I will likely never have a graduation moment for him.  Sure, there might be a ceremony, but that feeling of accomplishment, or even success will likely not be there. 

I really try not to dwell on things like that.  I honestly don't allow it to enter my consciousness.  With Sebastian, I think about today, tomorrow, next week.  I don't go much further ahead than that.  There is no good in it.  But looking at my boy, who looked so small and frail in his wheelchair, with his swollen knuckles and twisted fingers....I caught myself breaking more than once.  I am so jealous.  I am so bitter.

I want to have that...something.....normal.  I hate that word, I really do, but that's what I want. I am paying thousands of dollars to try and get it.  Something that in my heart of hearts, I know I can't have.  I am a dreamer being forced to be a realist.  And I hate it.  With all my heart.  I want hope, I want to be able to take for granted that my kid is going to finish grade school and go to high school.  I want to know that someday, my son will be invited to a birthday party.  That he will have a friend over to play, or be invited to a friend's house.  That he will have a sleep over.  Any of those normal things that happen every day, to every other kid on the planet.

Except mine.  Or so it sometimes seems.

I know I am blessed in many, many ways.  But sometimes, like Friday, the blessings are hard to count.  I know it will get better, it always does. 

But for now, I am bittersweet.  I am full of rough edges.  I am shattered and a little bit broken.

Rosie N. Grey
The N stands for "normal?"

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