Megan
My Megan
My Puzzle
My Princess
My images of Megan
–
Screaming. The girl
has lungs!
Her husky laugh.
Laying her in her crib.
She raises her arms
to have her blanket
Tucked under her
arms.
Has to have her hand
out so that
She can feel the
little lambs on her pink blanket.
Missing facial nerve.
Moebius. So what?
She is bright. Really
smart.
In the world of disabilities
we have come to know
This is easy.
Surgeries. They help.
My daughter smiles
And says Mama instead
of Nana.
Bye instead of die.
Nicer.
Problems. Lots of
problems.
She blames her face.
I blame her.
Problems grow. Tensions
build.
She is a statue.
Never talking. Never revealing
What she feels inside.
I try, but I am not
in there.
She does not deal
with herself. Does not meet herself.
She runs away. Again
and again.
She doesn’t
yet understand that she can’t run away from herself.
I love her. I hate
her. I love her.
Then. Change. Miracle.
Transformation. Rebirth.
Cautious.
I see, but cannot
trust.
When I trust, she
breaks the trust.
Demanding. Inept.
Irritating. Silent. Sullen. A rebel.
Or at least, at 14,
constantly trying to be those things.
She wants to be uniformly
different.
Thinks she is the
first to feel the way she feels.
She has achieved
and has started to learn to belong.
I am proud of her
unfolding.
Megan is a treasure
map. This I know.
A treasure map with
no X to mark the spot where the treasure is buried.
She will have to
find it for herself.
May 3, 2003
![chronpic97.jpg](http://webhosting.web.com/imagelib/sitebuilder/misc/show_image.html?linkedwidth=300&linkpath=http://www.justkidlets.com/sitebuildercontent/sitebuilderpictures/chronpic97.jpg&target=tlx_new&title="Life is Good")
