I can’t solve the debt crisis of the Ukraine war. For the next six days, I’ll be entering Jessica’s world, where a wonderful five-year-old soul lives in an uncooperative 44-year-old body. To understand more about Jessica, please see Piggy Market.
We’re picking her up in New York tomorrow for a visit here in Vermont. The mornings will begin with bagels, cream cheese, and coffee, and then she’ll want to help empty the dishwasher. I’ll bathe her and wash her hair, and she’ll notice that my pants got wet and wonder why. As I dry her off, she’ll say, “Hi, Me!” into the bathroom mirror, laugh and then hold my arms as I sit her down to get dressed. She’ll laugh for the 317th time when I put her panties on her head and think that her shoes are hysterical as they fall out of Daddy’s hands just before they go on her feet. After brushing her teeth, we put on her spray cologne, and she must have her Mom sniff her loveliness.
We might go for a walk in her wheelchair to the post office or her brother’s house. She’ll sit on our porch with her iPad and coloring books and watch the people and their dogs walking by. After dinner, there will be some musical or Peanuts movie to watch, and she’ll start getting tired. By nine o’clock, she’ll be tucked into bed with a stuffed animal under her arm and her prized pack of gum under the pillow.
The height of the week will be spent celebrating her nieces’ third birthday and holding her baby nephew. For the most part, she’ll be delighted to be up here. There will be a few moments when her head will explode when our grandchildren dare to touch her toys, but the fury will pass, especially when her brother (“my brudder” in Jessie-speak) provides his calming touch.
Throughout her stay, we’ll be helping her navigate our house and neighborhood, ensuring her transitions to her walker and wheelchair are completed without a fall. We love her visits, but it’s exhausting as you must be patient in deciphering her speech, provide her with opportunities to do as much as possible for herself, and make her part of this world.
This is our task for the next six days—a task we have chosen. No one from her group home suggests it’s necessary or the “right” thing to do. We welcome it as it is something under our control and expresses our love for her. We’re not unique or unusual. People do remarkable things for each other every day. These are things we can control.
The outside world of a looming debt default and warring nations seems unreal, and any resolution remote. We prefer the reality we make by loving those around us as best as we can, when we can. That gives us sanity.