Friday, September 26, 2014

Unnamed



About a week after my cat went missing, I sat at my piano and just let my fingers release my emotions. A few minutes later, my mom stood in the doorway and watched.

"That's a pretty song," she said. "What's it called?"

It doesn't have a name. Somehow, something is lost in translation when I try to put it into words.

And that's why I've been silent lately. I just can't put everything into words right now. Because life has been crazy lately. Crazy hard. Crazy scary. Crazy beautiful. Crazy awesome. Crazy.

A couple of weeks ago, I sat in my room surrounded by my friends as I struggled for breath and everything was fading, nebulizer pressed in my lap, someone's distant voice saying that my lips were turning blue. And when the medicine finally worked and I could feel the breath filling my lungs again, that's when I realized how amazing my friends are. They stood up for me and held secret meetings with res life ("I didn't want you to be there," one of them said, "because I wanted to get really, truly mad. I wanted justice.").

People say they don't know how I do it, how I live life with CP on top of all of these challenges. But the truth is, I don't know if I could do it without my CP. My CP has shown me that I have inner strength, abilities that transcend my limitations. My CP has shown me that even when I think I can't, I can.  
We all can.

Sometimes it's frustrating, to be sure. When I'm sitting in the lobby outside my classroom long after class has ended and the janitor smiles at me.....
            "You tired?" he says.
            "Yes," I say. "It's been a long week. And you?"
            "Well. Yes," he says, as he moves a table. "I'm tired. But I have an excuse. I'm old. You...you're young."
I stare, and for a fleeting moment, I want to stand so he can see the way my knees buckle from under me, the burden that is invisible when I'm sitting.
But his eyes are kind, so I smile in spite of myself.

And then just when I think that I'm going to break, a stranger stops me on my way back from class.
            "Hey," she calls. "Are you okay?"
            Is it that obvious? Is it that obvious that I'm having a rough day? Please God, tell me I don't have ketchup in my hair or toilet paper hanging off my shoe, because that would just be the Icing. On. The. Cake.
            "Yes?" I say, and it's more of a question as I check my shoe.
            "Oh, okay," she says, her smile innocent, her voice light and unflustered. "It's just...the way you walk is so interesting!"
            I thank her and as I continue on my way, I can't stop laughing. She made my CP sound like a choice, a fashion statement, a trend that hadn't quite gone out of style. 

It was just what I needed to keep on keeping on.

6 comments:

  1. That's beautiful. When you wrote about the janitor, it reminded me of times when as a young person I found this weird connection with elderly people over that experience of being tired, weary. Too bad the guy didn't make that connection with you, though it sounds like maybe he did and maybe didn't phrase it quite right. Hang in there!

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  2. You have such huge compassion for others.

    And no, you're quite right - in spite of everything, without CP, you'd be someone very different, and it takes maturity of spirit to recognise the ways in which it's moulded your character into the person you are today.

    I didn't know you played piano :)

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  3. Your CP is a part of who you are, just as the color of your hair or being a triplet. You know what else is? Your capacity for friendship. I love, love, love that your friends stood for you. Without you there, it means so much more.

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  4. Sweets!!! You have a new look over here! I read your posts from my phone much too often. But I LOVE the new look. And when it comes to CP or anything else, we don't choose who we are, we just are who we are. You are you, and a talented writer and one awesome chick. You are you, doing what you do and who knows if life would be different without CP? Who knows if my life would have been different if my one and only baby was born before I was 40? But I really think that what we're supposed to learn, and know, that we do. Maybe, you're like the one in your generation who makes people feel and know that all of us are just all of us.

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  5. So on the ever-increasing days that Nolan gets sad about how he walks, I can tell him he might just be a trend setter? AWESOME :)

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  6. I want to hear all your piano creations <3

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