Be Here Now
It’s easy to get caught up in ambitions to try to squeeze language into your child every waking moment. Yesterday morning, something happened that “Hit me like a ton of bricks…” and helped my family keep things in check.
Before leaving for work, C-Note started pulling on the back of my shirt and wouldn’t let me out the door. Having just sprang out of bed, she wasn’t wearing her hearing aid or CI at the time, but she had something very important to say and was determined to make sure I got the memo. She pulled me to the foot of her bed and turned my knees so that they were facing out the windor. Next, she parted the curtains and raised the blinds and looked me dead in the eye. “Daddy, will you watch the leaves fall with me, please?” Then she climbed into my lap and pulled both of my arms about her and set her head on my shoulder. I closed my eyes and pulled her close to me and we watched the leaves falls across the yard like snow.
In that brief time I wasn’t worried about making it to work on time. I was enjoying my priviledge of being a father, C-Note’s father, and hoping I never forgot this moment. “No implant, Daddy, just leaves.” she said. I nodded okay and squeezed her even tighter, while resting my chin lightly against her pretty, black hair. A little later, we said
"Hi. I'm Carina. What's your name?"
That's usually the first thing you hear when C-Note sees you. Her favorite past times are meeting new friends, hosting real and imaginary parties, and drawing pictures of everyone and everything, yourself included.
As C-Note's father, I stand in complete amazement of this young lady, who God has chosen to complete our family. As an adopted child with a hearing impairment, she experiences levels of joy that surpasses many who do not face similar challenges. A spunky kind of girl, she has also been affectionately nicknamed Wiggly, Jumping Jelly Bean, Wii Girl, and of course, our precious C-Note.