Skip to main content

For Anton.....

Once upon on time I knew I could fly. If I closed my eyes,wished hard enough, and said the magic words, I could fly. I knew because Anton told me I could.

Once upon a time, I knew I'd be the best prima ballerina, an Oscar winning actress and a millionaire. I knew I could do it, because Anton told me I would.

When we were young, my uncle Anton was my life coach, my playmate, my teacher, my inspiration and my partner in crime. He assumed in the most nonchalant way, that we would always succeed in whatever we had planned. So I had no reason to doubt it, as long as he was right next to me. I knew was good enough, probably better than most, because he told me. I knew I was smart enough, talented enough, because he told me. We played together, learned together and fought together. We finished each other's sentences, if we felt the need to talk at all. Whatever the other was feeling we just knew. At only 2 years apart we were twins in our souls. Inseparable for our entire childhood, now matter how crazy it got, he was my home.

When Anton left for college in Arizona I was 16. It felt as some vital organ in my body was being amputated. It was my first real heartbreak. I know my hysterical tears in the airport must have embarrassed him but he he didn't say anything. I felt lost those first few months without him so close by, like a phantom limb you keep trying to use. I was incomplete, not myself. I didn't know who I was, when I wasn't us. It was really hard to learn.

By the time he returned to the east coast, we weren't twins anymore but still more brother and sister than uncle and niece. I felt right again. But I had learned a little bit about being on my own. Not enough to like it, but enough to know I'd survive. Anton told me I would,

And then he left again, This time to Europe to perform in a musical. I was so very proud and so very sad. I was even angry. How could he leave me? These were our dreams, we were supposed to live them together. And I was afraid. I didn't dance the same after that. I kept feeling like I couldn't find the rhythm. Maybe I couldn't dance without my partner. Or maybe I just needed to look at his face to know that I had done it right. Eventually I stopped dancing and found new dreams, separate from the the kind of life we had planned as children.

Now we have totally opposite lives. I stayed close to family, he left the country. I got married, he came out. I drive carpools while he jet-sets through Europe. I don't regret our choices, only that we lost our friendship with them.  We see each other on every other Christmas or if he comes to here to work. We aren't twins, but we can still finish each other's sentences. I don't talk to him nearly as much as I want to, but I think about him all the time. I know this isn't a tragedy, we grew up, we grew apart. It's just .....Anton never told me we would.

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

10 Things You Never Say To The Mom of An Autistic Child

In honor of Autism Awareness Month, I want to take some time out to do this favor on behalf of parents of ASD kids everywhere. MY ASD baby, Spike was diagnosed very early, at 2 years old. I was so overwhelmed in the beginning. I had so many new medical terms, symptoms, and procedures to learn in addition to the emotional strain of learning I would now be parenting a special needs child. I had a whole lot to learn and no time to do it. It was rough.

In hindsight, I’m sure friends, family, coworkers, and even strangers had just as many questions and concerns. In hindsight, I’m sure most of their comments were innocent and well meaning. However, I have spent many moments fuming with anger, hurt or exasperation due to ignorant, insensitive, or rude comments and questions made to me about my ASD child.

In the hope that I can save some other parents and well-meaning friends and family some hurt feelings and embarrassment. I have compiled 10 Things You Never Say To The Mom of An Autistic Chil…

Who Protects our Children?

Yes, I know I haven't posted in many, many months, but we will deal with that later. There is something so pressing and so heavy on my heart and mind that I needed to address it here, in this space, where I am a Mommy first.

I know we have all seen the video of the Spring Valley student slammed to the ground and literally dragged like a rag doll out of her classroom. This blog isn't even about that. As disgusting and criminal (Yes I said criminal) as his actions were, he's not why I'm here to vent.

I am appalled NO horrified and disappointed and disgusted by how many responded to that video with, "But what did she do? or We can't see what she did before? Or well why didn't she just leave the class or give up the cell phone"" Black parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles all actively LOOKING for a reason to blame this child for this man's horrific violence and contempt towards her. As if there HAS to be another reason for a white police officer w…

Before Autism.....

Before Autism touched my life, I considered myself the kind of mother who pretty much had it together. Before Autism, I worked a full-time executive position, where my obsessive and control freak tendencies served me well. My three children were used to the daily routine of full-time school or daycare. Weaning, potty-training, bedtime issues, discipline, those were things OTHER mothers struggled with, for me it never seemed like a huge deal. I managed to sail through the first 9 years of motherhood without wrinkling my designer clothes, mussing my perfectly relaxed hair, or chipping a french manicured nail. I could never understand what other parents complained about. I was so smug and arrogant. I could not imagine what must go on in the houses of the lady behind me in the check out line with the screaming, rebelling children. I would think to my myself "home girl needs to get it together".

I thought I was done having kids, so my fourth pregnancy was a huge surprise in the m…