Whee

It is easier not to dream. Am I a coward because it hurts to much to imagine what could be? How many times have I sat in some cramped little office, trying to breath, barely resisting the impulse to grab the psychologist, pleading, oh God please, just some good news, just something good, please, and I can tell by her sad smile that there will be no hope today, no none for me. Dreams are for other people with healthy genes and the luxury of intact denial mechanisms.

A month ago my fondest hope was that Jude would be content to let others care for him always, and find some meaning in simple existence. I have always sensed his intelligence, felt it but couldn't see it, like the wind, like air, like God. Couldn't prove it, but I knew it was there.

Jude has calmed some, and has been letting the rest of the world see just a glimpse of his potential.

Now not one, but two people have tossed me a crumb. No, a whole loaf. They see it. Jude is smart, Jude has a future. I am thrilled, and terrified. I am slowly climbing the first hill of the roller coaster, not sure I can handle it, but it is too late to get off.

God help me be brave enough to dream, to hope, to let Jude try to find his way. Help me not to settle for good enough. Help me to throw my hands in the air and scream with delight. Because after all, I am only just along for the ride.