From The Boston Globe – Globe South
There is such joy in Lucy. I don’t always see it. Sometimes I’m too focused on improving her, reminding her to stand up straight, to look a person in the eye when she’s saying hello and goodbye, to slow down her words when she talks.
“Can you say that again, Lucy?” “Where are your shoes?” “Did you brush your teeth?” “Do you have your seat belt buckled?” Always on her case but for her own good, right?
Lucy, my first-born grandchild, is 11. I worried so about her when she was born. I still do. She has Down syndrome. There are plenty of reasons for worry.
But I worry about my other grandkids, too. You love someone and you want to protect them. And you can’t. So you worry.