Oh, what I’d give to have a boy who could tell me what was hurting him, a boy who could walk beside me to the park without stumbling, a boy who could ride off on his bike with his friends and to have a boy who had some friends to ride off with.
Oh, what I’d give to have a boy who could tell me his dreams, sit by himself and read or draw or write.
Oh, what I’d give to have a boy who wouldn't seize at 9:00 p.m. and then again at 3:30 in the morning, to have a boy who didn’t have to get emergency medicines and whom I wouldn't fear might have a seizure that won’t stop.
Oh, what I’d give to have a boy who’d be my pal on outings, who could wade with me into the waters, run and skip and jump and swim rather than wander in endless circles going nowhere, learning nothing beyond simple balance in the face of dizzying drugs.
Oh, what I’d give to have a boy who could pet his dog and ask for what he wants and know his birthday or anticipate his grandparent’s arrival.
Oh, what I’d give to have a boy who could go fishing and camping with his dad and me, who could order blueberry pancakes for breakfast and eat them with a fork and slurp chocolate malts with his burger and fries.
Oh, what I’d give for a boy who didn’t suffer the ills of countless seizures and tens of thousands of doses of antiepileptic pills and powders and potions.
And though I love Calvin with every fiber of my being, I might just give it all.
Oh, what I’d give to have a boy who could tell me his dreams, sit by himself and read or draw or write.
Oh, what I’d give to have a boy who wouldn't seize at 9:00 p.m. and then again at 3:30 in the morning, to have a boy who didn’t have to get emergency medicines and whom I wouldn't fear might have a seizure that won’t stop.
Oh, what I’d give to have a boy who’d be my pal on outings, who could wade with me into the waters, run and skip and jump and swim rather than wander in endless circles going nowhere, learning nothing beyond simple balance in the face of dizzying drugs.
Oh, what I’d give to have a boy who could pet his dog and ask for what he wants and know his birthday or anticipate his grandparent’s arrival.
Oh, what I’d give to have a boy who could go fishing and camping with his dad and me, who could order blueberry pancakes for breakfast and eat them with a fork and slurp chocolate malts with his burger and fries.
Oh, what I’d give for a boy who didn’t suffer the ills of countless seizures and tens of thousands of doses of antiepileptic pills and powders and potions.
And though I love Calvin with every fiber of my being, I might just give it all.
I hear you. Hang in there, Christy.
ReplyDeletei hear you, too....nothing i can say can make it any easier....but maybe for you to know that i find solace in your sharing...the depth of it, especially when you write about the purity of the love between you and Calvin...maybe that can help you to know that at least your sharing of the whole aching heart of this life with Calvin, that sharing is a gift to others....that sharing helps me remember and appreciate that it's only ever really the love underneath it all that matters...all the rest will fall away eventually.
ReplyDeleteI am sorry that you are so sad. We haven't talked in a really long time, and we need to. I miss you. You're not alone.
ReplyDelete