Some days I know exactly what I’m going to write.
Other days I search my journal for inspiration.
Still others, I just watch Tucker and he gives me something.
Today? Today is a different, strange day – because my head is swirling with thoughts.
Do I write about a sensory difficulty we’ve overcome?
Do I write about my overwhelming nerves of the coming school year?
Do I write about my anxiety of his adult years?
Do I write about Under the Tuscan Sun and how it always makes me want to sell everything and move to Tuscany?
Last night we watched City of Angels starring Nicholas Cage and Meg Ryan. It’s one of my top ‘crier’ movies – and true to form – I cried so hard I lost my breath. This time it was different though. I hadn’t watched it since Tucker was a toddler.
B.D. (Before Diagnosis)
There is a distinct line of thought and behaviors B.D. and A.D.
The jist of the movie is that Nicholas Cage plays Seth, an angel, who resides on earth to help people and also take them to the next ‘stage.’ I guess that makes him an angel who stops airplane accidents and a Grim Reaper who appears at death.
Odd, but I love Hollywood and a good love story. Usually it’s the love story that gets me, but not this time. This time it was the ‘living’ piece of the movie – – really, truly living.
Seth cannot touch, taste, or smell. Last night this scene really ‘got’ me (retrieved from IMDB).
Seth: What’s that like [Maggie is holding a pear]? What’s it taste like? Describe it like Hemingway.
Maggie Rice: Well, it tastes like a pear. You don’t know what a pear tastes like?
Seth: I don’t know what a pear tastes like to you.
Maggie Rice: Sweet, juicy, soft on your tongue, grainy like a sugary sand that dissolves in your mouth. How’s that?
Seth: It’s perfect.
It’s lovely, really…and then I became a bit jealous of my son Tucker.
Sometimes the world is too much for him.
I don’t think when I eat a pear. It’s sweet, I like it.
I don’t think when I shower. The clean, warm water feels good.
I don’t think when I walk outside. The breeze blows my hair around my face.
For Tucker this experience is different.
For him, a pear is sweet, juicy, soft on your tongue, grainy like a sugary sand that dissolves in your mouth.
For him, a shower feels like warm, refreshing raindrops. It makes his whole body warm and the touch of the water is soothing.
For him, the breeze is warm. It’s fresh on his face. It brings with it smells of a nearby fire, soil, and a fresh mowed lawn.
He’s the lucky one in this life. What a beautiful life he lives. I’m taking this as a cue. Instead of allowing all of those thoughts to swirl in my brain today I’m really going to focus. Try to focus on how Tucker would experience life.
Focus on what my husband’s touch feels like on my cheek, focus on the smell of the fresh mowed lawn, focus on the fuzzy, sweet, juicy peach sitting on my counter.
Tucker may be, at times, overwhelmed by all of the details and input – it’s evident that I need to slow down and pay attention to those details and input.
It’s truly where the most beautiful stuff in life lies (that and a good ‘ol love story).