Three short days ago, my beautiful Girl was rushed into the Emergency Room. The short story goes that her blood pressure was down, her blood sugars crashed, and her pulse was squiching along at half its normal pace. It turns out she had pneumonia. Today she’s sitting up in a hospital bed watching Pokemon and demanding Christmas be brought forward. She’s stunned the medical staff and her estimated date of discharge has been set at either Monday or Tuesday.
With the benefit of hindsight, none of this shocks me. Yes, I’m amazed we still have her. Especially after the events of the last few days. But this girl has more lives than a bagful of cats. And that’s given me pause to think about some of the things I love about her.
Her Appreciation for the Arts: Some years ago, I took her to the Disney on Ice production of Beauty and the Beast. The skater in that Mickey Mouse costume may well have been slated for his lacklustre performance on the night, but for at least one small member of the audience, his stumble and subsequent face-plant on the ice was the highlight of the evening and will be forever remembered with much amusement.
Loud Running: For a Girl with no appreciation for time constraints, there are so many attention-grabbers that can hold you up. Like Walking-While-Cuddling-Dead-Cat, Heading-For-the-Bathroom-While-Inspecting-CD’s, or the equally freeze-you-in-your-tracks Going-Out-to-the-Car-While-Checking-Contents-of-Lunchbox. When she was more mobile, I countered this lack of urgency with Loud Running. It was achieved by shouting, “Loud Running” and The Girl instantly increased her pace while yelling at the top of her voice. It was a one-time offer that remained in effect for a maximum of five seconds, but the results were instantaneous. I swear, magic could not have achieved the same results. I wish I had household cleaners that worked that well.
Her Cultural Awareness: I’m proud and amazed that my Girl can recite an entire Maori Haka, or war chant. Despite the fact that I find the phrase, “Yowdie Yowdies” in the second stanza highly questionable, I know that she’s picked up enough of the language that native speakers actually recognize it. Like the lovely Maori taxi driver who wheeled her up to the door and told me in astonishment, “She can speak Maori.”
“Yes, I know,” I told him. “I bloody wish she could speak English.”
Her Perennial Optimism: The world must be a wonderful place when you’re constantly looking forward to something. Birthdays and Christmas rotate on an annual basis. You just get one out of the way, and the other automatically slots into place.
Her Ability to Prioritize the Important Things In Life: Presents, mashed potato, art class, cheese and onion sandwiches, Playstation, lemonade, going to the video store. What more could a person possibly need?
I love that her view of life is so simplistic. She knows what she likes, and her expectations are few. She’s brave, she’s funny and she has no preconceived ideas about people. Until they go up against her in a battle of wills, and she loses.
If you take her as you find her, you’ll find a true friend. You bump heads with her, she’ll remember it for life and howl every time she sees you. And she’s taught me more in our thirty-two years than I could have found in any number of books.
But that brings me to an issue that many don’t think about – or maybe don’t need/want to think about. In this age of technological advances, as society strives evermore toward beauty, intelligence, and perfection in our future generations; and parents not only have the option to choose their baby’s sex, but now have the option to eliminate offspring with inherited illness and genetic defects, what happens to those children of the future born with disabilities? As we move forward, congratulating ourselves on our ability to weed out the ‘damaged,’ what happens when a section of our society is diminishing?
Will society become less tolerant; less accepting? Believe me, it’s only a scratch below the surface. I spoke to a woman only yesterday whose daughter has five children. For some reason I can’t even begin to comprehend, the general public feel it’s their right to pass judgement on her – to make comment on her choices. She said people will actually approach and ask her if she knows what contraception is; or whether she knows that population levels are already too high. I know what she means. If you’ve read my blog, “Moments I’m Not Proud Of,” you’ll see that I’ve had my own fair share.
And if this is the reaction to a large family, what will the reaction be to the parent who chooses to bring a child less perfect into the world? That they’re stupid? Selfish perhaps?
This is not a rant extolling the virtues of abortion over pro-life, or vice versa. And, I understand that with the advances in medical screening it’s now possible to detect illnesses that no parent would wish upon their child. And that given the choice, many would opt to terminate rather than inflict a future of pain and physical torment on their child.
But what if I’d made the choice not to have my girl; if I’d taken that other road in which she wasn’t a part of my life? Sure, there have been times I wouldn’t wish my lot on my own worst enemy. Of late, I look around and I wouldn’t exchange it for the world. If I didn’t have my Girl, would I be the person I am now? Would I have learnt the lessons I have? Strived to be as accepting as I am now?
And how much would I have missed?
I’m just saying…