You are my inspiration, sweet lady at the nail salon.
You are in your 80's with straggly silver hair, glasses as thick as bottles, and a walker with worn in tennis balls.
You select a muted pink pastel nail polish and squint to assess the color on your wrinkled fingers.
You keep turning your head to check something. I am intrigued. What is it that divides your attention so perfectly? What could be so important that you are unable to relax and be pampered. Then I see.
Sitting beside you is your 60 year old daughter. I can tell by her ticks, vocabulary, and lack of eye contact that she has a disability.
My heart swells with many emotions. For a second I hurt for your life story then quickly I'm in awe of it. I suddenly identify with you so vividly.
Bless you sweet mother. You continue to be the caretaker for your child who needs you well into her 60's and beyond. She must keep your spirit young. Your daughter keeps asking to try the lotion the nail lady places on your arm, so you you give her some and comment on the beautiful lavender scent. Your daughter agrees and likes to smell so much I can tell she wishes she could eat it. After the excitement of the lotion, your daughter goes back to her seat and stares into space. What a lucky daughter you have. I wish I could have taken you both to coffee and talked through what this life entails for you two.
Just know, you are my hero.
I cannot imagine what life was like 60 years ago when your daughter was born. Disability was extremely faux paux back then, and many children were sent to mental facilities. I wish you knew how much admiration I have for you right now.
I sit hear pondering heavy thoughts ....
...will I have a daughter in my house when I'm 80? Only the Lord knows, but how lucky will I be either way. If she continues to develop to the point of independence, we are blessed and to God be the glory. If she still needs mom and dad well into adulthood, we are honored...and to God be the glory still.