The other day I was snapping photos while Lani was at my computer.
Just as I clicked one, she turned and looked right into the camera.
I looked at the photo on the screen and kind of caught my breath.
I forget.
I really don't think twice about her eye.
But I thought to myself, "This is what people see when they meet her for the first time."
And everyone who knows us beyond that initial meeting forgets, too.
Her little personality shines through and her eye is forgotten.
So I forget.
This weekend we were at the park and Lani was sitting at the top of a slide.
A little girl was there and she was kind of a "close talker".
She climbed up to the top of the slide and was sitting right beside Lani.
Right up in her face.
And I watched something unfold right before me.
Something I had never seen happen before.
She asked Lani about her eye.
She wasn't making fun of it, just curious.
"Why is your eye like that? Can you see?"
Lani said yes and why?
The little girl replied, "Because there is a line with a polka dot."
Lani proceeded to tell her that God made her that way. And that her eye was broken.
She said, "I can't see out of that eye, but I can see out of this eye."
The little girl said, "oh."
(i learned more of this conversation the next day. i had only heard bits and pieces at the park.)
And that was it.
Lani slid down the slide and slowly walked over to the sand volleyball court.
She sat there by herself and played in the sand.
We let her.
About 5 minutes later she came back and played with the little girl some more.
Nothing more said.
My heart ached. Ached. ACHED.
It was just the first time I had witnessed it.
And as far as I know, the first time any child had asked about it.
And she handled it beautifully...as the tears almost spilled over in her mommy's eyes.
This will make her stronger.
This will make her more tolerant.
This will make her more compassionate.
But it still hurt. I still wanted to take it away.
But she will be better because of it.
It will shape her in a way that I could not shape her as a parent.
In a way that a life with no struggles could not.
Just like it has shaped us.
The not knowing for the first 36 hours of her life if she had a tumor or a cateract.
The handing her over to an anthesiologist at 8 days old to have the lens removed in her eye.
The sitting in the hospital with parents whose children were there for much more serious reasons.
The 6 surgeries in 11 months.
The four trips to Detroit to make sure she had the best pediatric retina specialist we could find.
The placing a hard contact in her eye each morning and removing it each night from the age of 3 weeks until her final surgery.
The patching of her good eye for months.
The questions asked so many times a day about the patch.
And after all that...
The doctor telling us, "You made an amazing effort, but she will not see out of that eye...ever."
It all came rushing back in that one brief moment.
And I ached...my heart ached.
But I saw that she is ok. And she will be ok.
No, she will be more than ok. She will be better because of it.
Who would have thought?
Just as I clicked one, she turned and looked right into the camera.
I looked at the photo on the screen and kind of caught my breath.
I forget.
I really don't think twice about her eye.
But I thought to myself, "This is what people see when they meet her for the first time."
And everyone who knows us beyond that initial meeting forgets, too.
Her little personality shines through and her eye is forgotten.
So I forget.
This weekend we were at the park and Lani was sitting at the top of a slide.
A little girl was there and she was kind of a "close talker".
She climbed up to the top of the slide and was sitting right beside Lani.
Right up in her face.
And I watched something unfold right before me.
Something I had never seen happen before.
She asked Lani about her eye.
She wasn't making fun of it, just curious.
"Why is your eye like that? Can you see?"
Lani said yes and why?
The little girl replied, "Because there is a line with a polka dot."
Lani proceeded to tell her that God made her that way. And that her eye was broken.
She said, "I can't see out of that eye, but I can see out of this eye."
The little girl said, "oh."
(i learned more of this conversation the next day. i had only heard bits and pieces at the park.)
And that was it.
Lani slid down the slide and slowly walked over to the sand volleyball court.
She sat there by herself and played in the sand.
We let her.
About 5 minutes later she came back and played with the little girl some more.
Nothing more said.
My heart ached. Ached. ACHED.
It was just the first time I had witnessed it.
And as far as I know, the first time any child had asked about it.
And she handled it beautifully...as the tears almost spilled over in her mommy's eyes.
This will make her stronger.
This will make her more tolerant.
This will make her more compassionate.
But it still hurt. I still wanted to take it away.
But she will be better because of it.
It will shape her in a way that I could not shape her as a parent.
In a way that a life with no struggles could not.
Just like it has shaped us.
The not knowing for the first 36 hours of her life if she had a tumor or a cateract.
The handing her over to an anthesiologist at 8 days old to have the lens removed in her eye.
The sitting in the hospital with parents whose children were there for much more serious reasons.
The 6 surgeries in 11 months.
The four trips to Detroit to make sure she had the best pediatric retina specialist we could find.
The placing a hard contact in her eye each morning and removing it each night from the age of 3 weeks until her final surgery.
The patching of her good eye for months.
The questions asked so many times a day about the patch.
And after all that...
The doctor telling us, "You made an amazing effort, but she will not see out of that eye...ever."
It all came rushing back in that one brief moment.
And I ached...my heart ached.
But I saw that she is ok. And she will be ok.
No, she will be more than ok. She will be better because of it.
Who would have thought?
5 comments:
wow. i didn't know all you went through. but, you're right. sometimes we know Him more through our struggles (actually MOST times, huh?)
i GET that your mother's heart ached though. i can't imagine.
Wow, Cassie. You wrote that beautifully. Lani will love to read the love pouring out of that post some day.
She has an amazing, strong mother...and she will no doubt, be just like her.
I've got that ache too...
Love to both of you tonight.
We love you Lani! That is all I can even say.
Cassie, I have talked with Lani several times, it is not the first thing I noticed, that was her beautiful smile. I never even noticed her eye until you mentioned it one time and then I was looking for it. I am sure she will be just great.
I never once noticed in your pictures that her eye was different. She is gorgeous, just goes to show that her smile is so bright, her face so beautiful, and her spirit so joyful that that is what people pay attention to.
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