At 3 years old, Crystel couldn’t speak. She couldn’t say her name. The only one who understood her was her brother, Juan Jose’. He’d interpret for us.
One time, Jody, Juan Jose’ and I were at a campground, and each mom had reached it by a different path. Each mom thought the other had Crystel. Juan Jose’ said it the best when we found Crystel eye to eye with a white double-bearded goat. “Cissy, I so scared my heart go out then come back in when I see you.”
The goat chewing her cud, the little girl waiting for her family to find her.
It was tasked with her daily homework. A folder filled with pictures. I pulled a photo out, she named it, and we would go through the stack. Except, I gave up. I didn’t understand a word she was saying. I couldn’t comprehend how she would get any better.
It was her speech therapist that said, “Crystel’s the hardest worker I have. She always does her best. Are you doing her homework?”
That evening we started again. With Crystel in my lap, I pointed to a picture of fire.
“Ire,” Crystel said.
I moved my finger to a firefighter.
“Ireighter.”
To a shark’s fin.
“in.”
Of course, Crystel did get better, and she graduated from speech therapy by the time she was eight years old. She no longer allowed Juan Jose’ to speak for her.
She had a voice. She had determination. She had fortitude.
I became a believer. Crystel would be able to do anything that she ever wanted to do because she would not quit. Even when her mom did.
Crystel and Juan Jose’ are sophomores in high school. They start losing electronic privileges if their grades drop below a B-. Crystel is a straight A student. It doesn’t come easy for her. She studies nightly.
She will not let me or anyone else determine her life. She will not allow herself to be mediocre.
Her passions catch fire.
On several occasions, she has created convincing PowerPoint presentations to persuade Jody and me. I had no plan to travel to Japan. Her presentation included facts, photos, and vibrated with excitement. We will now be traveling there for the summer 2020 Olympics. We have a map of Japan in our kitchen. We have a Japan vacation fund.
On our latest trip to Guatemala, it was at her insistence that we kayaked to a waterfront house for sale in Guatemala on the shores of Lake Atitlan. Walking around the property, I realized that Guatemala had truly entered our hearts. Our every other year visits would no longer be just about visiting the birth families. Crystel was right. Anything was possible.
She ran the Wood Lake half marathon this summer with a friend. 13.1 miles. 8.22 min a mile. She had not yet turned 16.
Crystel has recently become a vegan. If it was anyone else, I might think that this is a phase she is going through. Because it is her, I understand that she has embraced the lifestyle. She prepares and cooks her own food. I find this impressive, but it doesn’t surprise me.
Crystel meets storms head on. Her face to the wind. She is living. She has a hunger to be and to do.
Her current life plan is to be a Futurist. A Futurist is a person who studies the future and makes predictions based on current trends.
Based on current trends, she will be just fine.
I am fascinated by the pull of the seasons, how deeply rooted my reactions are. After several cold, rainy days, it’s autumn. Suddenly, I want meatloaf and baked potatoes and think about roasted vegetables. I research soups to warm up with instead of the salads I ate all summer. After sampling two mealy peaches, I’m done with my favorite fruit and turn to apples without a backward glance—Ginger Gold and Sweetangoes from the farmers market.
3 responses to “Autumn Has Its Compensations”
Your post echoes my thoughts exactly, Ellen. The joy of autumn is always a bit tainted by the knowledge of what follows. sigh…
One of my autumn compensations? Getting the chance to catch up with you over tomato soup and grilled cheese. #grateful
It was great to see you too, while enjoying such a cool weather meal!