I'm not sure where to begin with this entry. I got Taylor's school progress report in the mail this week. One of the sections described how Taylor could pick out 3 numbers, up to the number 9, with 60% accuracy. I read that and had a mixed reaction that involved some tears. On the one hand, I was excited that Taylor could pick out a few numbers a little over half the time. On the other hand, Taylor is 19 years old and should be finishing up her first year in college.
After 19 years of living with a profoundly developmentally delayed "child", you would think I was done grieving for what might have been. In a sense, I am. However, I think there are always going to be those times when it just comes back to haunt you.
Honestly, I can't really imagine Taylor any other way than the way she is…a 6 foot tall toddler with a loving personality. I will admit to the occasional day dream where Taylor is a typical teenage girl. I wonder if she would be really girly or more of a tomboy. Would she still love car magazines like Mustang 5.0? Would "3 Doors Down" and "Nickelback" still be her favorite bands? What TV show would take the place of her current favorite, "Blue's Clues"?
I rejoice at every new accomplishment she makes, no matter how small. I am proud that my child is the popular one in her class because of her personality. I love the fact that she knows more people in our small town than I do. I can even handle the fact that more people know me as "Taylor's mom" instead of Dawn.
There are just those short periods when I need to grieve again for what might have been. I guess that will never go away. My doctor once told me that it is healthy to give into those moments of grief…as long as I don't let it take over. I think the fact that I get excited because Taylor learned to say "ta da!" shows that I don't dwell on the "might have beens".