Telling Cam

I’ve enjoyed finding my rhythm again at school this week, and I count my afternoons with Cam and Scott a delightful privilege. I catch myself marvelling that my big, macho St Alban’s boys were the tiny babies of other mothers not so long ago. J

Murray and I decided a few weeks ago that we needed to tell Cam about his eyes (or rather, about everyone else’s eyes, as he still thinks that everyone wears contact lenses and the like) – in a matter-of-fact, love-steeped way. We thought it wise to let the already fast approaching realisation of his disability happen within the cushioning of his toddler confidence. We would be devastated to ever see him withdraw or lose his irrepressible zest and sense of humour, and we thought the knowledge would be safely received now, by his splendid little self-image J. We also wanted him to hear it from us. Being teased by other kids is inevitable, and imminent.

On Wednesday afternoon, while Scott was sleeping, Cam and I were sitting on the stoep. He was on my lap and we were just chatting. There were sprinklings of sunlight coming through the trees and the garden was mostly shade and stillness. He told me, ‘I’m growing taller everyday!’ It was the gap I’d been waiting for. I told him he’d surely be taller than me one day because Jesus made me quite short. In fact, I sometimes have to stand on a chair to reach the very top kitchen cupboards. But, thankfully, there are other things that I can manage fairly well. I used some other examples (i.e. Daddy’s awesome at this but not so good at that, etc.), and then I casually mentioned how God gave him very special eyes. I told him that he can’t see so well, but that it’s ok because there are loads of things he can do brilliantly, like sing (at which point he broke into his very best rendition of Jingle Bells), run, jump, count, etc, etc. (The list was exceptionally long, because I’m his mom so I’m allowed to think that he is marvellous at just about everything J).

He listened quietly and without any sign of disconcertion. Then the conversation went on to other things. I’m grateful for God’s grace in creating just the right time and place, and that there was no hurt, no confusion. I’m well aware that those things will still come, but at least this was a kind, comfortable beginning.