When it Comes to my Son with Down Syndrome, I’m Not an Optimist
“We can still come back and win. It’ll only take 2 touchdowns and a field goal,” I said to my grandfather during one of the many brutal football bowl games of my childhood.
“No. They won’t.” He sat with his arms crossed, defeat accepted, but he still watched the game to the end.
“You’re a pessimist.” I moved to the floor in front of the TV.
“I’m a realist,” he said.
A Pessimist, an Optimist, a Realist
“A realist,” he explained to me, “doesn’t think the worst will happen every
They all lived happily ever…pleased me as a child. Even as an adult, I like a story to have a “happy ending.” In real life, though, how many happy endings are there, really? I shudder to think.
10 years ago, I was the customer service and marketing manager in the family print shop and Quinn and I celebrated our 10-year wedding anniversary with a delightful party at the Joslyn Art Museum and I wore a fabulous dress. I celebrated a breakthrough in my health and was in the few “perfect weight” years of my life. (Well, to be honest, I had one singular year of perfectly healthy weight. Ah well…but this post isn’t about my