Jul. 24, 2010
And A, and B, and C.
She states the alphabet as if it were the truest thing the world could know.
When she's happy, when she's upset, when she's confused.
And D, and E, and First days at Camp Daisy doubled as an introduction to the language of the less verbal linguists on our Earth.
And G, and H, and I relate to her nuances, making me feel related and closer, rather than any breed of superior.
And J, and K, and Love is unconditional, effortless, nonverbal.
And M, and N, and Oh So Many Phrases stored away, things some will never get past and understand.
And P, and Q, and Ridiculous children's songs never seemed so meaningful.
And S, and T, and U may not realize your impact, as it may never be shown back to you.
And V, and W, and X! RE-lax is triggered, and back to A and B and C.
Who knows where Y and Z slip off to each time? It's all part of the puzzle of her brain,
some things are constant, some triggered, some distant and elusive.
I would like to think that her retelling the story of her Alphabet is her way of saying anything
she could ever want to communicate. The letters are scrambled, and out of order, perhaps missing y and z;
but they are all there. It's just the matter of solving the puzzle, learning the language, bridging the gap, loving without bounds.
-Haley P.