This is a repost from a note I wrote on FB just over a year ago. I love it because it became a forgotten treasure and because it means so much to me. I am still sad that I am not able to offer my children the same worldview I was given. It’s such a rare thing to be so unbiased because of total immersion into a specific culture. It’s something I’ll never be able to completely understand or effectively communicate to others…but those are just more reasons to treasure it. Enjoy!
Many of you may not know this, but I “grew up” in adult foster care homes.
My parents and grandparents gave me a gift. I was able to experience very formidable stages of early childhood development while being entirely immersed in a world unheard of by most and unseen by nearly all.
I was a newborn in a house that was home to my parents, me, and a group of deaf and developmentally disabled adults. These figures of my earliest memories were former residents of institutions. Some were still young and adjusted quickly to living in a house, back in their community. Others had only known institutional life. My first home, was their first home.
I learned to crawl with one goal in mind: to reach the kitchen linoleum where I could sit up and form a simple gesture with 2 chubby hands that would magically conjure up a cookie (as in, someone recognized my infant version of American Sign Language sign for “cookie” … to my mother’s dismay).
I potty trained independently (well, not quite…but I figured it out without Mom’s help). Poor Mom thought I was dehydrated after changing so many dry diapers. Those handicap rails in the restroom acted like a chin-up bar for my toddler arms. I hoisted myself up…and how proud I must have been!
Later on, in a home full of sweet elderly residents, I learned to tell time by telling an blind resident where their carrots were located on their plate: “Carrots at 12 ‘o clock, chicken at 3 ‘o clock and bread at 6 ‘o clock.”
I learned how to jump rope because an energetic resident showed me how to tie the rope to a tree while they held the other end. I jumped for hours, making up rhymes…they swung that rope for me, any time I wanted.
I saw life birth itself in bodies that had been abused, neglected, and abandoned. I knew nothing else other than this. This was life. This was joy. This was family.
I loved those souls, as much as a young one can. I saw ability, strength, and hope. I saw how humans live together and support each other. I saw a give-and-take that my poor excuse for cooperation pales in comparison to.
I was given a gift. The gift of truly innocent, unprejudiced eyes.
I grieve because that gift has faded. I grieve because I know so many were never able to experience what I had.
I saw humans. I saw people. And I saw them, from the inside, out.
Lemon Plum 