It is the middle of the night and I am at my desk. It is peaceful, a time for me to be more introspective and contemplative. Yesterday (Saturday) was a good day. Special Olympics bowling began two weeks ago and will continue until February. Once a week Clark and Phil take their bowling balls and shoes (an exciting Christmas gift a couple of years ago) and meet with peers to bowl three games. For years I was the taxi driver to all Special Olympics’ practices but now Cherlyn helps. Friday night she went camping so I drove yesterday morning. “Watch us?!” a question and a request so I did. Fortunately they bowled on lanes next to each other so I could stay seated and cheer them both on and also get 25 pages of a quick-read book read when neither was bowling. It is now a comfortable, familiar environment (it would not have been for me before I had children with mental retardation) of mostly adults, about 75, with a variety of disabilities, Down Syndrome, autism, undiagnosed, and, of course, my favorite, two very special fragile X men. “Men”—that is hard to believe. They are my boys. When younger friends tell me some of the cute things their small children do I am thinking about the cute things my boys do like when I read aloud to our family a short book we had received as a gift. There was a girl in the book named Daisy. When Phil heard that name he started singing “Daisy, Daisy Crockett.” We burst out laughing. “Put that in your journal.” More laughter. How does he know that song “Davey Crockett” and how does he come up with such funny comments? Life is good.
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