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sometimes we sit in the car

It's not always about having a seizure.


Sometimes the impact of his disability looks like sitting in the car while everyone else is touring a museum, because he just couldn't anymore. 




And I'm trying to push the trapped-by-disability-frustration down, as I remind myself, he just finished sitting peacefully through that 20-minute lecture at Touro Synagogue; a reflection of growth. I force my heart towards gratitude that at least I was given that gift. That lecture was the most beautiful I've ever heard. It was like a livingbook come to life before my eyes. And I can understand more deeply the beauty of historical story-telling versus the stale textbook. 


I would love to be touring the next museum too. I know he would have loved it. The magnificent art draws him in. But his body and mind refused would not cooperate. We made a hasty exit to the car before the meltdown could form in its fullness. Now he's content with a snack and his DS. It could be worse.


So, maybe next year we'll get to finally see the Chateau Sur Mer. This year, we sit in the car because that's what he needs. Sigh. 

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