Wednesday, November 6, 2013


I remember very few things about my childhood. Snapshots of memories really. I can't remember if I really remember them, or I remember pictures and stories recounted. Half memories. A Cookie Monster Cake for someones birthday. My favorite feetie pajamas- soft and white, yellow and green. I remember my brother Doug before he died at 7 years old. His death helped to freeze memories and time, taught me that life is important and that true love and heart ache is a real thing. It still teaches me that. Sometimes I think empathy is the cure to everything. I remember Doug's toy chest in his room. The receptacle of my curls he cut off one afternoon. I could always count on trident gum in my mom's purse. I remember hearing the words, Who's pouring? which made happiness flood through my brain. They were some of the best words to hear- because it meant that Dad was popping popcorn on the stove. It was such a treat. We'd stand around while the oil heated up. The thick and familiar smell of Wesson oil in the oil. He'd put in a test kernel, and when it would pop, we would squeal. And if Dad was popping, that meant someone needed to pour the Kool Aid

I'm pouring, my Mom would call out. Things took longer then- like popping pop corn.  You have more time to talk when things take longer. I think that was a good thing for families.

I remember wearing brand new Kangaroo shoes. I could jump so high in them.

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I remember coveting Guess Jeans.

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My Grandma bought me my only pair of Guess Jeans. And when I outgrew them I was crushed. I tried to cut the triangle off the butt and sew them to my new TJ Maxx Jeans. That didn't work so I then tried gluing it on. No dice either. I was stuck with my unGuess jeans. I thought I would die. I'm a better girl now from not getting everything I wanted then. 

I try to remember that when there are things I can't give to my boys.

Parker and Greyson- I don't know what the inside of your minds look like now- or what it will look like when you are 39, trying to search through the boxes in your memories for clues on how Life used to be. If you are like me, you won't remember many of the details. The more life you live- the more room is needed for new details. When it's all over, the details aren't really important though I guess. Red or blue. Yes or No. I think it's more about feelings of goodness and comfort and home. Feelings of love and contentment and safety. 

My sweet boys, I don't need you to know details of our days- although you will be able to find many of them on this blog... However I do need you to know bigger picture things- like how I feel when I think about you. How honored I am that you turned me into a Mother. I need you to know how crazy in love with you I am. I need you to use the love I give you and then be able to give unconditional love of your own to others. I need you to know that even when it's hard and feels like much too much- these are the best days of my entire Life. You make me see old dusty things as if they were brand new and beautiful -sometimes for the very first time. You remind me to turn my face up towards the Heaven and actually feel the sun on my face. You remind me how much I love sidewalk chalk and coloring. You show me that getting dirty is fun. You remind me anything amazing is worth fighting like Hell for. You remind me to laugh often, to sing off key and to love as if there was no tomorrow. 

You can't speak- so you remind me NOT to take the gift of a voice for granted. Not for a minute. To use it for kindness and good. 

If you remember just a few things from your childhood, I'm totally okay if it's not the details. I just hope you can bring to mind the feelings though. 

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I bet you will remember our weekly Wednesdays. I know I'll never forget. It was our beautiful ritual, running to watch the garbage truck coast and stop down our street week after week. There was no autism- just a boy and his Mom. It was something we enjoyed doing together. Something that made your eyes light up and that that bright shine wore off on me. There was nothing greater than our Trash Truck Wednesdays. And I wrote about an experience we had. And then everything went so fast. We were even on the Nightly News on NBC.

But after the cameras and chaos- you were too scared to go see the truck, and our ritual came to an abrupt halt. I tried to force it a couple of times, but it was suddenly too loud and scary for you. I understood- sometimes autism makes regular old everyday things unbearable.  So instead, our driver, Frank- now waits to take his break until he gets to our house, and he comes inside for lunch. I was sad your excitement over the truck was gone- but hopeful that one day it would be our special exchange again. Every week I would ask you, Do you want to see the truck today? And every day you answered, no until I finally  stopped asking. 

And today- we were saying Goodbye to Frank...

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And you started to yell and point for the door... You wanted to see the truck. I felt like I was in a dream. 

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And you looked up at your old Friend, The Truck, like it was pure love. My face hurts right now from smiling.

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You even gave a few little flappy jumps. Frank and I were delighted. I never could have imagined that one day my idea of Heaven would be watching my sweet little boys enjoy the garbage truck. 

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Bye Uncle Frankie! 

That is something that you boys teach me-- Don't wait for the big things to be happy. Go find your own little slice of happy today.

And happiness looks like a lot of different things for a lot of different people. Sometimes it's hard to cut through the clutter to find your own happiness flavor. Keep looking, and waiting. It always comes back around.


Chrissy, Mom

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  1. So happy for you and your handsome boys! What a wonderful memory :)

  2. "Go find your own little slice of happy today". Thanks for that!! By the way, I always wanted Kangaroo shoes and never got Guess jeans but everything was alright when I got a pair of rocking pair of pink jelly shoes! :)

  3. This was so beautiful, Chrissy. I have teenagers and you inspired me to write to them today and let them know how much I love them. I'm so glad Greyson wanted to see his beloved truck again. Thanks for inspiring me and being real, you are an amazing writer.

  4. Oh Friend! So many things spoke to me in this post. But this. This. "I need you to know that even when it's hard and feels like much too much- these are the best days of my entire Life" I need to remember that too. It is easy to lose sight of that in all the other clutter and noise of life. These ARE the best days.
    Thank you for those words and that reminder. I needed it more than I knew.
    Glad you had a great Frank day:) Love & happiness to you, sweet Momma. xoxo Jen

  5. LOVE this one, friend! My face hurts from smiling! Love that Grey found his love of the truck again! We miss you guys! Give those boys a squeeze from me!

  6. Yay! SO happy that Grey moved past this fear (at least for today) and found that joyful Trash Truck Wednesday moment again. And look how happy Frank looks too!

    1. Me too :-)
      I love the pic of Frank holding and hugging Grey - so sweet.

  7. What a beautiful post. I am a new reader to your blog and find it very inspirational. Your boys are just beautiful and lucky to have you. So glad to hear about your slice of happy today.

  8. Oh, how lovely! I have such a big smile on my face. So happy that this day was a jumpy one.