What Is She Thinking: A Canyon of Quandaries
By: Michele Johnson Keesee
© 2008 by Michele Johnson Keesee.
Two beautiful, ocean-blue eyes stared blankly from behind scratchproof lenses. Her mouth gaped, and the sauce from the breadsticks she ate moments beforehand stained the corners of her mouth. Her facial muscles slacked and her shoulders slumped. Her mind had retreated to that special place, her face utilizing its shield, guarding her private thoughts.
Over the years, I watched my daughter grow from a premature infant into an immature teen. I sat in the far corner of the room, watching Kali and thought, “What could I have done? I did everything the doctors told me to do.”
Born six weeks early on an unseasonably warm winter day, Kali triumphed, insisting her right to exist. She required no assistance in maintaining her unexpected early arrival. Breathing and eating, just like any full-term newborn, four days after her birth, the hospital released her into my care.
I remember the joy and the feeling of pride. Looking down in my hands, remembering how wonderful it felt to hold Kali when she was an infant. How was I to know something was wrong? That problems would arise and the feeling of helplessness would soon conquer all?
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