Nemo
We woke up to nearly a foot of snow, Nor'Easter Nemo had arrived.
At least the power was still on, thank God for small mercies.
John cooked an Irish Breakfast, Ryan worked on using his "talker" and I tried to interest him in the snow outside. Then the Facebook posts started rolling in. Pictures of kids with huge smiles, building snowmen and making snow angels. I look over and Ryan is still content to awkwardly spoon his eggs, not aware of the blanket of pure white snow outside. I remember being a kid and waking up to snow, it was a truly magical experience. Excitement of the unexpected, we couldn't wait to get out into it. Although we knew it came at the price of frozen toes and fingers it was always worth it.
I wish that he would realise that something is different today, that he would plead to get his snowsuit on and beg to go outside to make a snowman.
But that wish goes unanswered.
This is my wish, not his, my problem, not his, when will i stop wishing for what will never be and feeling that Ryan is being cheated. When will I let go of trying to direct his excitement, or think his thoughts.
But i look over at the happy boy, enjoying his eggs and Irish sausage that his daddy made for him, the wish for more lies only with me ................
At least the power was still on, thank God for small mercies.
John cooked an Irish Breakfast, Ryan worked on using his "talker" and I tried to interest him in the snow outside. Then the Facebook posts started rolling in. Pictures of kids with huge smiles, building snowmen and making snow angels. I look over and Ryan is still content to awkwardly spoon his eggs, not aware of the blanket of pure white snow outside. I remember being a kid and waking up to snow, it was a truly magical experience. Excitement of the unexpected, we couldn't wait to get out into it. Although we knew it came at the price of frozen toes and fingers it was always worth it.
I wish that he would realise that something is different today, that he would plead to get his snowsuit on and beg to go outside to make a snowman.
But that wish goes unanswered.
This is my wish, not his, my problem, not his, when will i stop wishing for what will never be and feeling that Ryan is being cheated. When will I let go of trying to direct his excitement, or think his thoughts.
But i look over at the happy boy, enjoying his eggs and Irish sausage that his daddy made for him, the wish for more lies only with me ................
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