Happy new year and happy now

 

Palm Beach Post

2014.

20-flippin-14!

The years, they are like snowflakes piling right before our eyes into huge snowdrifts.

Then disappearing, leaving just wisps of memories.

In the most quiet moments, I can summon them.

I can hear the clickety-clack of plastic high heels as my daughter, Marina, toddles around, playing dress-up. Marina’s 16 now, driving a car she’s named Lucy.

I can see my son Aubrey as a 2-foot tyke in his wheeled walker, zooming around, chasing the dog with glee. Now, at 12, he pushes me around in my wheeled chair.

And 10-year-old Wesley, my baby. My heart gives me a high-five when I think of Wes smiling at me as I nursed him, milk dribbling out the corner of his mouth.

Wes now has an array of odd social behaviors due to autism, like reading people’s text messages aloud after being asked not to. “They wrote ‘I hope you still have those purple undies on,’ ” he’ll announce in a crowd.

Now that I can’t walk or talk and rein him in, his attention-grabbers have intensified. Once in awhile, Wes will spit on me, throw things at me or cover my computer screen with a blanket, disabling my primary form of communication.

I think he’s expressing anger at me, trying to get me to react, trying to get me to return to normal.

Yes, these days now are longer than ever, while years still flash by.

Shazam — 2014!

Read the story at palmbeachpost.com.

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