The Graduate

One more from the fire house.

Reuben has never been one to crave too much of the limelight and when it's shone brightly upon him, he becomes a little shy. And yet there he was on a huge screen, the projector running through the last 18 months of his life at UCLA school, each photo beautifully selected by the teachers, from the little introverted boy with fragile health, to the big boy with his high top Converse with hidden orthotics, signing and babbling away, seemingly not a care in the World.

It may seem a little early for such a service to be warranted the title "graduation" but it marks the end of early intervention for Reuben, a period of rehabilitation and development from prolonged hospitalisation and a chronic genetic condition (CHARGE) in the areas of speech, socialisation, physical, fine motor, feeding, well pretty much everything. Add to this his 16 surgeries to date, and I hope you'll agree that Reuben is no less a hero than the fireman whom we later visited today.

A beautifully fitting service about which I'll write more later, the cakes, slideshow to the sound of Somewhere over the rainbow/what a wonderful world by Israel Kamakawiwo, how could we keep a dry eye? I read out one of my poems, I didn't know and my thoughts before his original planned graduation, a quick final run around in the playground for some pics, but I feel it's time not to have him hang around with me and Callum, but to move to pastures new.

My mind drifts back to your first days at UCLA. Unable to walk unassisted, no ability to move your vocal chords and sound a word, cry or laugh, in terms of what you have achieved, it feels like a lifetime away. And yet did I envisage you walking, talking, laughing, climbing, jumping. I had my high hopes, I knew there was an Everest to climb and at times the peak kept cruelly being displaced, higher and higher, so it felt like we would never reach the summit, and yet today, on your penultimate day at UCLA, we can stand with the flag waving and look down to the peaks and troughs, the deep canyons and joyous crests and truly marvel at what lies below us. It's a beautiful view.

The fire station was just waiting for us, catching sight of the gleaming red fire truck (aka fire engine) parked outside, how could I resist taking the boys in and how amazingly accommodating the heroic station officers were. Hey, one of them even shot me lying on the same bumper in my dress and heals, dressed up was I for Reuben's big day and the boys' faces were too priceless as they watched one of the (rather handsome young) firemen (oops, sorry, forgetting myself for a bit here), slide down the firemen's pole. What joy! So the choice between Reuben holding his graduation certificate in a photo I didn't take and this, a photo I did take, well, 'twas a tough one.

I DIDN'T KNOW


I didn't know the meaning of downy
Until I felt your skin at birth
I didn't know you knew all your school friend's names in sign
Until I asked
Nor that you could reach down and pick up a book and stand back up again unsupported
Until you showed me
I didn't know you could jump without aid
Until the music played
I didn't know there were 2 lights on in the car
Until you signed "it's the same"
Nor that you knew the origins of pain
Until you signed ow-wee at a tiny long faded scratch on your hand
I didn't know you knew the signs for cloud, windy, lightning and rain
Until the weather changed
I didn't know you knew about wipers on cars
Until the first rains came today
Nor did I understand the power of "yet"
Until you taught me patience
I didn't know the sweetness of your voice
Until a miracle in June
I didn't know of courage
Until you let me see
Nor did I know of defiance
Until you became a toddler
I didn't know you could tickle yourself
Until you showed me how
I didn't know you felt unconditional love
Until I saw your love for Callum
Nor did I know the best smell in the world
Until I smelt your hair this evening
I didn't know I had it in me
Until you brought it out.

If all these are things I didn't know because I've never asked, seen, heard, touched or smelt, I can only dream of what it is that you will continue to bring to this World and I can only feel emotions cement inside my heart that you are here for great things, Reuben. "

- October 2009, Mama