January 15, 2016

bone wall

Rather than post on REBELTOeSDAY, I built a wall between myself and my oldest daughter. Its dimensions are heartbreaking, but I included a few dusty pockets where crickets can chirp.

It seems her mouth and my mouth are similar. Some parts crooked, some parts too forward, some parts too backward and all jangly in the middle. Coupled with an accident my mixed up mouth resulted in two surgeries and two decades of chronic sinus infections, crazy nerve pain, titanium pins, and a growing hole in my lower jaw bone causing growing concern.

I am aware that interventions have changed. However, the first step to tidy up her mouth is remarkably similar to the first step for me oh so long ago: a bone cracking roof of the mouth expander. My words to describe this contraption include barbaric, torture and NO.

But, her experience is not my experience and logically I know this. So, I did what a good mum should do. I took her for a star shaped cookie after her ortho appointment. I snuggled up to her, sniffed her head and hid a few tears. Then, I scooped up my emotions that had spilled all over the coffee house floor and took a few days to build them into a wall between us. But it isn’t so high that I can’t see her. I am her mum after all.

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