Now I See You (Molly)

So little, vulnerable, unable to grasp my thumb, no Babinski clutch.  Then we knew: you were injured.  Your brain impacted at birth, maybe.  Or you carried a gene, like the uncle’s child we never knew about.  I had prayed as a young girl that all of my children would be “normal.”  Several nieces and nephews had already been born, and I said this prayer after I recited each of their names.  I ask now, ‘How could that be?’ True. I had been passing on my way to school a young boy sitting at his front door with an enlarged head.  Perhaps that image had precipitated that prayer.

Today you are 50 and I may be seeing you for the first time.  We are still attached as one; I have been your voice for all these years.  Now we converse.  We talk.  It is our own way of speaking and I say things to you and no one else, and you understand.  Now you see me too.  08/2013

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