A Poem I thought I would share about living with my wonderful adult daughter, who I had when a teenager. She is now 26 years old, and I while I don't feel lost anymore, or sad (for me), but sometimes sad when I hear her wishes for her future that might never be, but no not lost. Very happy that indeed I share this life. I don't see her as a 'gift', I adhere to being blamed for giving her life. I just am. I'm also a sociologist who writes about this stuff, so my personal journey is often punctuated (or the other way around), with writing, reflecting, and being. At the moment I am writing about being human and we still have a long way to go in 'doing humanity'. ;-) My poem, based on diary notes from 1998, but my daughter was born in 1986. Lost She walked, albeit late. She talked, albeit late. She just sat in the corner. Alone. ...your daughter is seriously unsociable. Offended. I withdrew.
My late teenage years - I didnt know what to do. Developmental milestones - build the blocks. Failed. One on top of the other on top of the other.... ...So what? She is progressing Slowly, slowly. She is progressing - in my head Time after time after time.
The early days. Ignorance felt, Aggression delivered hate for those with the knowledge.
A rare syndrome the doctor announced... ...what does that mean? Will she die young? Will she be crippled? What do I do? What is my future? What is her future? Please show me the way.... Im lost.