Not really. I mean, he can. He can see to walk around, and to play outside. He can play minecraft on the kindle. He can color. He can see – but he can’t see television.
Harrison invited him over to his house for the upcoming weekend, to play Minecraft on the Wii U – and he was so excited. Right up until this afternoon, when he realized that he can’t see the television.
He cried. Just sat down and cried, because he wants to be able to see, to do the stuff that he always used to do, and he can’t.
There’s nothing I can say in those moments. There’s no way to soften it, or make it better. He can’t do what he used to be able to do. I can tell him that we can talk to the doctor’s and see if we can get better glasses, but that just gets him more upset, because he’s terrified of the doctor, and hates wearing glasses. So I sit, and wait it out. Once he calms down, I can get him to come sit with me, and I wrap my arms around him, and tell him that he’s absolutely right – it ISN’T fair, and he’s got every right to be angry about it. And that Daddy and I are so proud of him, for the way that he finds a way to be okay, to look for things that he CAN do and CAN see. I get him more ice water, and another bowl of white rice – all the while, feeling like my heart is breaking in two.
I tell myself that I should be grateful for all that he can do. Be grateful that he isn’t in pain, that he’s got all his arms and legs, and he’s physically healthy. That he can eat so many more things, like chicken fingers and pancakes and turkey bacon and hot dogs. Corn on the cob. That he got his hair cut yesterday, and he happily went for a walk with me earlier and asked to go for the “long” walk with Lucky instead of the quick up the street thing I do. There’s so much to be grateful about – but dammit, there’s a hell of a lot to be angry about too. Because my little boy can’t do what he loves. He can’t go play Minecraft on the Wii U, and that’s pisses me off. I’m furious and sad and trying so hard not to focus on that. Because he’s got to live with his – he has to live with the limitations and the handicap, and I have to find a way to make that okay. If he can do it – if he can find a way to make the intolerable, tolerable, then I’ve got no business wallowing in anger and frustration. He deserves better. All the way around.