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“As Grandma cried, Dad stayed silent. Mom looked at him. The room was full of unasked and unaswered questions: Will she live with us forever? Will she die young? Will she walk, run, skip, play, read, and write? When she speaks, what will she tell us, what will she say? And also the other questions that would never be answered: Why us? Why her?  The air conditioner rattled in the window.”

As Nana looked on with adoration, Titi cradled me. Mommy rested. The room was bounding with love and apprehension: Will she leave this hosptial? Will she bear the weight of her charge– the world and her sensitivities? When words throttle from her mouth and passion spreads from her gait, will she be heard and acknowledged? Or will the world in its equal beauty and cruelty disregard her ? Questions lingered: How do I prepare her? How do I protect her? In the distance a baby screamed.

 

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