I don’t know if you play the lottery, be it Powerball or Megamillions or both. I don’t play often, but when the numbers get up high enough, I usually can’t resist at least putting a couple of bucks down – you gotta be in it to win it, right? And you just never know.
If you play like I do (or more often for that matter), you may relate to that feeling when you put that ticket in your pocket – can you imagine? wow, what would I do with $100 million? I would… and the list then goes on and on and on. It’s wishful thinking at its very best.
Of course, you never win more than a few dollars and you fantasy of a worry-free life goes “poof” just like any other dream does when you wake up in the morning.
Yesterday was Brooke’s 10th birthday. All month, scratch that, all YEAR she as been talking about turning 10; how it’s the biggest one zero, how she’ll be a big kid, how she’ll be double-digits. All that talk lulled me into a “just bought my lottery ticket” state. It’s not that I was thinking or even wishing that she would wake up on her 10th birthday without autism. No, being autistic is part of who Brooke is. The feeling for me was the flickering thought that somehow turning 10 would give Brooke special powers to deal with the difficulties that can come along with autism; that somehow now that she was 10, she would be able to handle and not scream at the sound of her sister’s coughs, that she would be able to easily adjust to eating at a restaurant that wasn’t part of the original plan, that she could refrain from yelling when people asked her to repeat what she said, that she wouldn’t get overwhelmed at the thought of conveying that she had changed her mind about something.
I don’t know why or how I had convinced myself that these things would happen just because my baby was turning 10.
I have to remember that Brooke will make her way…it will just be at her own pace, in her own way, in the order that works for her.