Can You Sing?

Errol’s favorite book is the Nobel Prize winning, Can You Sing? By Lisa Lawston, illustrated by Ed Vere.

The entire text consists of:

Please sing me a song.

Rrraaahh!

Rowf!

Quack, quack!

Ork, ork, ork!

Ribbit!

H-Hoo! Moo!

Hiss!

Ow-ooo!

Snort!

Thank you. Good night!

If I asked Errol to construct his perfect day it would go something like:

Milk, Can You Sing?, milk, Can You Sing?, banana, Can You Sing?, Can You Sing?, banana, Can You Sing?, Can You Sing?, milk, nap, milk, Can You Sing?, milk with a simultaneous reading of Can You Sing?, grab hair, banana, Can You Sing?, Can You Sing?, Can You Sing? , milk, sleep, dream about Can You Sing?

Can You Sing? is always wonderful to read (three time in five minutes, tonight) and Errol’s reaction is immediate, loud and joyful: squeal!

 

Errol's brother Owen is almost six and he is growing up.

Sunday was a cool and overcast afternoon. Cary, Owen, and I sat around the living room table and played Uno. Owen won three times. It was one of those surprising moments you want to stretch on and on (these moments are never planned). It’s this joy that I hoped for when Cary and I dreamed of parenthood. And as Owen grows up, there are more and more of these moments.

Errol is not growing up. Although he is three years old, in most ways he is still an infant (and probably always will be). Errol brings so much joy into our lives (Rrraaahh! Snort!), but he also brings guilt, sorrow, limitations, anxiety, and he’s getting harder and harder to lift (38 pounds!) Having a severely disabled child with a deadly heart defect isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

It’s good to have an anchor in a storm, but sometimes I want to sail out of this little cove into the wide and beautiful sea.