Monday, April 18, 2011

Love can build a bridge

I was doing my thing at the gym this morning, getting in my groove on the elliptical machine while my ipod shuffled through songs.  I usually listen to a playlist instead of shuffle so I haven't heard a lot of songs on my ipod lately.  The song "Love Can Build a Bridge" by The Judds came on and I almost skipped it to go to a more upbeat song.  Instead the words grabbed a hold of me before I could get to the next button.  This song has a great message about love and it's powers.  I listened intently, applying that message to my personal journey.  I had to listen to it again and hoped that I wouldn't make a fool out of myself by starting to cry openly at the gym.

Reagan can not talk to me and has very limited communication skills at this point.  Yet I feel immensely connected to her and in tune to her spirit.  I feel that the love we share and understanding of that unconditional love has built a bridge over her inability to use words.  I talk to her all the time, and no she doesn't respond but the love that shines through her eyes back at me talks to me.  I am not sure if I did a good job relaying what I am feeling and how I interpreted the song.  But the bottom line is that I felt the message loud and clear this morning, love is all that matters.  Here is link to their live performance if you've never heard the song:  The Judds beautiful performance.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011


Around the time that Reagan was 18 months, I gave up on trying to color with her.  She didn't seem to enjoy it, quite the opposite actually, and we both would be frustrated or in tears before it was all over.  Looking back, how can I blame her for being so frustrated.  She wanted her little hands to be able to hold the crayons, she wanted to scribble on the paper like her cousin, but her body refused.  

This weekend I broke out those same colors for Lauren and pulled out Reagan's old art table that has been in a corner for at least a year.  I smiled so big when Lauren immediately took to scribbling.  Then I got sad again when I saw Reagan watching us, it seemed her eyes were curious about what we were doing and wanted to be included.  Of course she does and I need to start figuring out ways to make sure that happens more often.

I got out more paper and put her in the chair opposite of Lauren and we all colored together, me doing hand over hand for Reagan.  It was a perfect 30 minutes when it felt like everything was aligned.  The sun was shining outside, I could hear birds chirping, Lauren was alternating between tasting the crayons and scribbling on the table, and Reagan was smiling.  Life was good.  

We went outside later that day and I expected the usual from Reagan, ten minutes of tolerance followed by screaming to let me know she wanted to go back inside.  But instead she was happy and content to be outside with the family and the dogs, just enjoying the moment.  

I hope that we are seeing some of the happy and content Reagan return because we are no longer in the Regression stage of Rett Syndrome!