There's this dream we carry in our socks, stuffed down by our ankles, like a dollar bill to buy a snow-cone when music whispers down the lane. You'll run to the sound if you hear it or hop on your bike and follow the chimes with hopes of ice-cream on a hot summer day.
Someday he'll walk.
She'll see.
He'll talk.
Someday he'll catch up.
She'll fit in.
He'll understand.
You wait and you hope and you wait and you pray and you bargain and you wait and you plead and you pay and you wait but the icecream truck doesn't doesnt drive down the back road you call home.
Too many potholes and briar patches, widow makers and creek beds, avalanches and tornadoes and one day you find yourself reaching down into your right sock and pulling out one of your dreams to hand to someone else.
Its not gonna happen. Not for me. For him. For her. For us.
Let it go...
You pick up a branch and draw what might have been on the brackish water's edge--knowing wind, waves and walkers will wash your castles away.
Your backpack loaded with the weight of what you know, you turn towards the mountains.
Somewhere in the distance an eagle cries.
Christy, I know well those moments; they are painful. But they are also not the end of dreams. With Nik, I have learned to leave room for the unexpected, to form new dreams. Sometime, I find that dreams I thought abandoned were merely put on hold until Nik was ready.
Sending you love, thoughts of peace, and holding a space for new dreams to rise up.
Posted by: niksmom | 05/13/2011 at 02:52 AM
I don't know jack but...
Maybe you are listening for the wrong music?
Maybe you should have your ear cocked for a Vivaldi symphony...or the pleasure of the birds twittering ion a newly dressed branch.
That is just my way of saying if you know that one dream won't come true, I am really, really hoping that some other, even better one, will.
Hang in there, Christy.
Posted by: danielle in zurich (again) | 05/13/2011 at 02:58 AM
Your words remind me of There is a Castle on a Cloud sung by Cosette in Les Miserables. I can't completely understand another's world of unrealized expectations or pain of loss, but I do understand the love a mother holds for her child. And I know that Elias is the luckiest child in the world to have your love and Nick's love (and your entire family's love). Cosette only wanted someone to love her. :)
Posted by: Greta | 05/13/2011 at 06:56 AM
Just Monday a friend said to me "Sometimes you just have to redefine what your definition of success is." Her adult son had spent years pursuing a dream, that will not be coming true. I think she is right.
Posted by: Karen | 05/13/2011 at 07:43 AM
{{{hugs}}} and a glass of wine...
Posted by: Kate J | 05/13/2011 at 12:40 PM
your words remind me of the saying that when God closes a door, a window opens somewhere unexpected. I think all of us can find some truth in that. XoX.
Posted by: fleming | 05/13/2011 at 02:53 PM
Love. That's the beginning and the end. And the thread that runs all the way through. Love, period.
Posted by: Janie | 05/14/2011 at 02:22 PM
and sometimes well meaning relatives hold out those dreams and hopes when deep down and late at night in the dark you know that they aren't going to happen. But somewhere along the way, small miracles do happen even if they are not the ones you were expecting and in the meantime life goes on one day at a time.
Posted by: se | 05/14/2011 at 04:38 PM
Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end.
Posted by: AngieinNYC | 05/14/2011 at 09:21 PM
se, the well meaning part is so true, people who care and want to erase the hurt often hold onto expectations for me that I am in the process of letting go...to be replaced, (yes Danielle), by music to a different beat, different dreams, unexpected miracles, and the joy of making it over those distant mountains.
Love always carries us and I know Elias is lucky to be loved by so many: thank you all.
I think this post comes from the dawning that Elias's damaged brain doesn't just affect his balance, mobility, coordination, and vision but his communication too. And there's a part of me that has still held onto that hope that Elias will "pass", that he wont always stand out as different but would blend in with time and people would say, "Wow, I would have never known he had such a rough start." There's a boy at school with CP who walks with a slight limp but otherwise plays soccer and runs and swings and jumps and has buddies and I didn't know he had CP till his mom told me and a part of me wanted to cry because that was my dream for Elias.
But yes, its not the end and I don't know what is ahead, what doors will open or what success will look like for Elias. What dreams he'll realize that I never could have built in the sand.
Posted by: Christy | 05/14/2011 at 10:17 PM
Big hug to you, Christy.
XOXOX
Posted by: danielle in zurich | 05/15/2011 at 11:19 AM
Christy, do you write poetry? You've got some great metaphors and imagery there. You might like to visit Laura Purdie Salas's blog because she has poetry prompts and also exercises from Writing the Life Poetic: http://laurasalas.livejournal.com/ I know you're busy, but if you have a chance you might like to check it out.
Tabatha
Posted by: Tabatha | 05/17/2011 at 12:59 AM
Tabatha, before having kids I wrote a lot of poetry and even got into the whole poetry slam scene but have written less and less as my time has dwindled with children. I do want to get back into it though so I will check out the link. Thanks!
Posted by: Christy | 05/18/2011 at 08:29 AM