Sunday, April 5, 2015

Easter remembering

When I stand next to him now, my chin touches the top of his head. He does not stop growing. Puberty and all of its graphic descriptions is here. Something else I find myself being so woefully unprepared to face, not when he's not quite capable of letting us in on his feelings or needs.

Hints of facial hair, blemishes on his skin, morning tents, where did the time go? Was it last week when he was scooting around in the kitchen, chasing an empty jar of mayonnaise?

He still embeds himself into my side. Seventy one pounds of jutting bone and body has some very sharp spots. I wonder if he knows how tall he's getting.

His feet are stretching out so much than in another year or two he can probably fit into my own shoes.

Some days the future seems less uncertain that it is. I'm not quite sure how uncertainty translates into the cluelessness that magnifies how unprepared I feel in providing for his life as an adult, and the question I think all parents face, not just the ones of special needs children - what happens to them after I'm gone?

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