I do love the Mamas and the Papas. I think that album cover showed them piled in an old bathtub, John and Michelle Phillips, Danny something-or-other and Cass Elliot. Yes, an Album. It was my parents' album and I don't think I was even in school yet. I am quite old, but not that old.
So LRHF has his formal evaluation on Monday. I am terrified. I am 40% terrified that I will fall apart with such alacrity and drama that the evaluators will simply give each other the well, what can you expect look and click their tongues while they write out their reports. The remainder of my terror is simply that I do not know, and no one can tell me, how to hear how autistic my perfect baby is.
You know that there is the unspoken mommying stuff, and then there is the spoken, the written, the diagnosed mommying stuff. The two may well be the same and without surprise, but Oh Dear God, I am barely able to look on the first bit and would rather tear my eyes out that look on the second. I get how that sounds overly dramatic or stupid or nonsensical. I can see how that would be, but just the same, it is a very true thing.
Terrified. Maybe it's really more specifically dread, but "terrified" is the word that rears up in my brain and in my heart when I think about it, and I can't be bothered to stand on semantics just now.
And I realize that on Tuesday morning, he will still be my best and beautiful LRHF, my very, very precious joy, my love's pure light. I know that. I do.
It's just that right now my mommy heart is like that part of Genesis, that beginning part, in the beginning before God moved across the chaos and made light and dark and so forth. There is no reason, no logic, no understanding, but just all-burning ferocity and passion and angst. My lovely Justine gave me the Hebrew word for chaos, and while I cannot remember it, it sure sounded good.
Prayers or meditations or emoticons would be great, but I can't settle on the specifics of what would help. Maybe just that LRHF's Mommy remembers that He Will Benefit, even when She is Falling Apart. Maybe just that. Or that God will flicker across the chaos in that time and LRHF's mommy will be still and know that He is. That would be good too, I think.
No one is in bed yet, so it's too early to sit and muse and wallow. People need juice and chicken and baths and at least I'll be busy, right?
Maybe get my mind off of it.
Monday Monday,
can't trust that day.
Monday Monday,
sometimes it just turns out that way.
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1 comment:
Tohoo Va'Vohoo is a loose transliteration. Often in English they call it "unformed and void" or something but if I remember right, this is one of those mysterious Hebrew phrases no one's quite sure of.
My dictionary says, for toe-hoo: emptiness, nothing, waste.
L., there's so much more to you than that but my heart reaches out to your heart in perfect understanding of the sentiment. When these things (hearts) break, Tohoo Va'Vohoo seems an almost kind, calm description of the ensuing chaos.
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