Moment of silence, please



Good-bye, Van Go.

Today we pushed the rusty old blue van out on the street to make way for cars that actually run. I don't think I'm ready to let it go--Van Go has a lot of stories to tell. My parents bought it when I was a junior in high school and I drove it to its death a few weeks ago. It's an old friend. I think in some corny way I wanted it to hang on longer, because it's death means to me one more thing that has fallen apart this year. If cars could talk, I would tell it "Hang on until I get a real job. Prove to me that even though something is worn out and broken, it can still be salvaged." But instead we need to let it go.

This picture was taken when Leah was three and Hannah was a fussy newborn. We were living in an area of Logan referred to as the "island", which is highly ironic because living there was extremely difficult and isolating for me. Leah put her Elmo and Cookie Monster in the car without being prompted to do so. For most people, this is routine toddler behavior. For moms of autistic kids, this kind of thing is monumental. It was the first time I remember her using her imagination and making the connection that if I could drive, so could her animals. The skill of playing with toys and 'pretending' did not come naturally to her, so this was a big day for me. It gave me hope.

Comments

Jennifer Walker said…
Good bye, Van Go! When things fall apart, it just means we have to make way for something better.
August 1, 2010 at 9:17 AM
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