Mother’s Day again

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It is Mother’s Day today in Australia and many other parts of the world. The media is having a field day, of course. Though not as rabidly frenzied as during Christmas, social media is literally cluttered with cute-cute love-love sweet-sweet Mother’s Day posts, shops are awash with Mummy Love paraphernalia, and well, you know the scenario – a literal pyrotechnic bombardment of the Greatness of Motherhood fills the mental, emotional and physical landscape.

Here, in our tiny microcosmic corner of the vast universe, Lucy and I have enjoyed yet another beautiful day together.

Our day began as usual at around 5.30am, with gentle good morning cuddles in bed before venturing forth bravely into the new day. I am immensely grateful for every day that brings sunshine, because these are balm to my hypersenses. After a longish walk in the sunshine, and a good chat with our friend, M, the elderly gentleman with the van-home, we trotted back to our little abode, all smiles from the adventure. I did the laundry, borrowing a kind neighbour’s machines, using the laundry room downstairs for the first time since moving into this apartment block. Don’t ask me exactly why it has taken me this long to even ask my neighbour for this favour – there are many ‘scientific’ discussions about this bizarre phenomena so inherent in autistic people, explaining it will take up more than a blog post! Anyhow, after some minor struggle with a loose cover on my electrical outlet, and a tiny bit of panic when I initially thought I’d damaged my neighbour’s machines (yeah, duh!), the washing was finally done and carried back upstairs to dry in my own balcony. Another quirk: I don’t like using the common drying area. 🙂

Apart from lunch of leftovers from yesterday’s evening’s sweet & sour pork experiment and Rick’s generous gift of tiramisu (yup, I have been making inroads there, it was a large tub!), I spent most of the day writing. I have been preparing for a lecture I am giving tomorrow. I feel very honoured to be invited every year to do this guest lecture, and I try to provide better insights each time. Today was spent rewriting and adding new material, introducing better evolved insights etc. Time tends to speed by when one is having the most fun. And yes, to me, the luxury of indulging in my passion, which happens to be my work, thinking about and talking about my work, is fun. Alongside spending time with Lucy, of course. Lucy snoozed in her bed, occasionally opening her eyes to keep tabs on me.

As the day melted into evening, and the sun slowly gave way to darkness, we strolled along our street. Inspired by my young friend Rachel, who is ever so diligent with the training of her assistance dog Gypsy (also a Greyhound), I practised short distance ‘stays’ with Lucy. My heart was pounding, so afraid of the risk, but our street is mostly quiet and cars move slowly because children play along the street often. Lucy did well, and it is these very moments which fill the space inside my Being with such glorious warmth that is inexplicable in its beauty. I took a few photographs of the crimson sunset reflected in the treetops and tried to capture the ephemeral crossing over into darkness that was painted across the sky.

And I sang this song out loud, relishing the physicality of singing, the palpable effort of combining one’s sensory faculties to produce audible tones, and the associative memories from the movie, which I watched countless times in my childhood, mesmerised.

Jeremy Brett, the very best Sherlock Holmes ever, here in his youth, as the handsome dashing Freddie in My Fair Lady. Overpowering indeed: I am living on the street, in the same home, where my Lucy lives. What a beautiful street it is because of her!

And so, to end this lovely day, which happens to also be Mother’s Day, here is a quote from my status post on Facebook today:

A Happy Mother’s Day to all happy mothers. I wish me a Happy Mumma’s Day too, because I have the best child in the world. Lucy will never speak in verbal language to me, she will never say “I love you, mummy” and she is not even an affectionate kind of dog in the obvious ways that many others are, but that is not at all important to me, because I delight in the pure pulchritude of her parallel embodiment and the fascinating quest of learning her language. She is not of my species and that brings me even more delight and joy, because Lucy is not limited to human love and human reciprocity, and she doesn’t judge me according to my ineptitude at understanding her and her domain, instead, she reaches into mine to help me overcome my ignorance.

Sadly, for some, such festive occasions are not happy at all. Children who grow up being told that their mothers never wanted them, because the children have disabilities, they could not perform the normalities that their mothers wished for, and they cost a lot more money and effort to bring up (or not kill, because it is a crime most heinous to kill your child). It is wonderful to have loving mothers and bring up appreciated and appreciative children. But I have been thinking about the unwanted children brought up by grudging mothers, today. Those who cannot celebrate Mother’s Day with any joy whatsoever.

Lucy and I send them all our elemental empathic embrace.

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