Following the “rules of blog” – I sometimes share moments from then (we have 27 years of material to choose from) and I share moments from now. If I leave you with a question in this down syndrome blog, feel free to ask it. If I leave you with a revelation, feel free to share it. If I post a general rant or big news that has nothing to do with Marcus, well, that’s the blogger’s prerogative.
Here are some blogs or subjects to start with. Or just scroll down for our most recent adventures!
Times Square and theatre fuel Marcus’ busy brain like nothing else. He absorbs and reflects the energy and passion.
When Marcus is one of a group of many, it’s hard for him to be heard and share his ideas. When he and I travel alone, especially on a theatre trip, he shares constantly; we chat together non-stop. In fact, this last trip I marveled internally at how much he had to say in every conversation, never at a loss for words.
A vivid reminder that just because other people can’t understand him, doesn’t mean he doesn’t have plenty to share.
For me, theatre both fills me and drains me. An emotional and artistic bloodletting.
Who else heard as a child, “In or out!” As the screen door banged against the frame for the umpteenth time?
Why did we rush back and forth so many times? Drinks of water or Koolaid? Bathroom? Just to take a minute to cool off from the hot, humid air? One more toy, prop, or idea?
In. Or. Out.
This is firmly a “grown-up” attitude. One or the Other.
Remember the days when you would flit between ideas, between worlds, between ambitions? Then came the applications and classes and cubicles that narrowed their eyes at you and said – pick a door. One Door.
In or out.
Of my regrets, one is following this line of thinking for too many years. So when I have occasion to work with children, other young people, adult artists, and allies, I try to break
When I was thin.
I got over it.
Today I’m responding to the prompt: I used to think (but I don’t anymore).
Here are five that came to mind.
Walking the Thin Line:
I used to think it would be better for me to be dead than have any fat on my body.
Since then,…bad news and good news.
Oh boy, do I have fat on my bones.
But glad to be alive. 🙂
Learning the Hard Way:
I used to think our legal system had some semblance of/or consideration of/ “common sense,” also that the “little guy “ had some systemic protection against endless allegations that are merely for the sake of harassment. I don’t anymore.
A Lifetime of Laughter
Before we married, Quinn told me an anecdote from the old sitcom “Night Court.” The characters included the goofy judge, the “together” lawyer, and the grumpy-old-lady-guard. The “together” lawyer was lamenting the goofy judge’s capacity for silliness, how could they succeed in a forever relationship together when he refused to “grow up”? Concerns for his responsibility weighed upon her mind and the prospect of their future.
After a pause, the grumpy-old-lady-guard said, “Yeah… after a lifetime of laughter, what have you got?”
This story was one of the ways Quinn convinced me to keep him. So many worse fates than a lifetime of laughter.
Keeping a Sense of Humor
When my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s she said, “So…I’ve got old-timers?”
“Yup,” I said.
“Well, at least I’ve still got my sense of