Happiness is a butterfly, which when pursued, is always just beyond your grasp, but which, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you. (Nathaniel Hawthorne)
Ella pulls toys from the shelf. She hands me a soft baby doll and then takes picture flash cards out of the box. She holds up the cards for the doll to learn the words. I provide the voice for the toy.
An hour ago our granddaughter had a fever. She kept my iPad close to her but she didn’t seem to be able to focus. No video or game could take away her discomfort. One dose of children’s acetaminophen brings her back to play, to smiles, to an interest in her favorite foods.
I want my precious girl to be well now. I can’t yank infection from her system with wishes. Antipyretics are temporary. She sees the doctor today. My husband and I wait for those moments of shared happiness, that grin that says: I’m a fighter. Down syndrome hasn’t thrown me. An illness won’t either.
Not that she could say that with grownup words. Ella has her difficult moments, but her version of a crabby day isn’t easily noticed because it doesn’t resemble another child’s I-want-it-my-way tantrum. She doesn’t demand. Her first words when she arrived at the house this morning were, “I’m sick.” Yet, poor-me isn’t in her, and her statement did not appear with a pout or whine. She mentioned it as fact.
Now as her temperature eases down toward normal, her natural happiness reappears and her ability to capture joy alights upon me. It settles into my being, at least for a while.
On most days I have a difficult time sitting still to watch more than one television show, even if the program happens to be riveting. My agenda calls me to write, clean, do laundry—even scrub a toilet. Yet, I can sit next to my granddaughter for hours while my neurotic need for action remains on hold.
Her small frame lies curled in my lap and I massage her back with as light a touch as I can manage. The fever has returned. She turns toward me and smiles. The butterfly has landed, and I don’t want it to fly away. Ever.
***
Ella’s mommy calls after Ella’s appointment. She has a virus and a sinus infection. Nothing dire. I am grateful…I am grateful…I am grateful…
Photo by photographer, Sue Wilke
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