Reach for the Stars

I stood in my kitchen window today, watching my daughters playing on the swingset. I struggled not to run and help as my disabled 5 yr old tried over and over to get herself sitting on the swing.

As I was about to look away and regain control of my emotions, she succeeded and sat there in her Blues Clues hat looking very happy with her accomplishment. It was the hopes of that look that held me back from running to her aid. As I watched her there rocking back and forth on the swing I wondered if she would ever be sitting here swinging toward the sky, as her big sister does.

I started remembering… all the time’s we’d reached for the stars. All the accomplishments we had been told to never expect. My babygirl had reached for the stars many times before – and grabbed hold and done what she was never supposed to succeed at.

Why would this time be any different?

The same baby they told me would never hold up her own head – now sat on the swing set, proud of the fact she got there by herself.

The little one the Dr refused to brace because, after all, ‘she’s never going to walk’, was using those very same legs to kick the ground and move the swing a little.

I stood there reminiscing, remembering all the little, and not so little, miracles we had seen. As I came out of my reverie, still staring out the window, I realized I was witnessing yet another miracle.

For there was my little daughter, her feet firmly planted on the ground, pushing with enough force that her swing was swinging her higher, bringing her closer to the stars. I wish I could express the happiness that it brought, not only to me, but to her little face. She sat swinging, holding on tightly (with fingers that were never to grasp a thing) reaching… again reaching, for the stars.

-Glenda Hayman