Yesterday Larkin was in a good mood and it was nice outside so I took her out front to walk on the sidewalk. 

I leave her barefoot so that her skin comes into the abrupt contact of concrete.  Cold, grating, smooth, cracks and all the things that a child who craves sensory input needs.

We walked up and down the sidewalk in front of the house.  She in her white tights and pink top and me in flip-flops with my hair tied back. 

I was using my feet to brush leaves and sticks out of the way and for some unknown reason this sent her into fits of uncontrolled laughter.  She screamed with laughter until she couldn’t catch her breath.

So there we were.  I am walking in front holding her hands and urging her to walk, kicking my feet up with a little more animation to get her to laugh and her using her Frankenbaby (that is a medical term HA!) walk to come toward me.  I in a loud voice saying “GO GO GO” which only made us laugh more. 

People were smiling and waving, some laughing.  People passing by and I wondered after a bit what a site we must be.  Does it show?  Do they know the pain and scars we bare? 

If only they knew the story of Larkin.  They would know the gift it is to be able to have her stand, look at me, giggle/laugh and interact with me on any level.  They would stop and share the moment with me.  No thoughts of school, seizures, Down syndrome, ketogenic diet, therapy, politics, gas prices, the economy.  They would stop and inhale the essence of a child who has fought so bravely and a mother who for this moment kicked up her feet and only thought of giggles.