Upon returning home the other evening, we were told Emma had become dysregulated because her favorite imax movie about the Hubble Space Telescope wouldn’t play. This is the self-portrait she drew, unaided.
The note along with this self-portrait said:
“Emma is sad. They want to turn it on. Mommy, I need help turning on Hubble Imax theatre.”
This is the first “self-portrait” Emma has ever made for us.
Do you see the tears? The eyes? The downturned smile? And then there are the Obama-like ears, which made me smile, and the hands! God I love those hands that she drew, like rakes. I stood in the kitchen staring at this drawing, this drawing drawn by my amazing little girl who was feeling so, so sad and I felt tears well up. I felt that constriction in your throat that only comes when you are about to cry and I felt proud. So, so proud of her for drawing this despite her sadness. My heart ached for her sadness and at the same time I felt awe. Awe in Emma. Awe in this world and all of it’s inhabitants and how little we really know or understand. I felt humbled by the enormity of those feelings and by her. My little girl. My beautiful, expressive daughter. My Emma. This child that I have been so fortunate to have enter my life. This child who has taught me to see beyond what I believe is real, to strive to understand what I cannot, to push past my fears, to be present in a way that I never knew was possible. This child… this unique and stunning child.
It is yet another example of the incredible life I find myself inhabiting. It is a life and world filled with beauty and appreciation. It is an enviable life. An inspired life. A life I would not trade for anyone’s.
To read my most recent Huffington Post, click ‘here.’
To read my guest post on Special Needs.com, click ‘here‘
Emma's Hope Book 