I cried for Aida today...

I havent cried for awhile. I began to think I had accepted my place in this story, That I had accepted Parker's place in his existence....but perhaps not just yet. I was so touched this morning by the fraternity I saw between the deaf kids in Parker's deaf school that I was taken back. My breath was taken away. Again. I am reminded by the sweat and blood, late hours, and hard work this school and its' professionals do for our baby (soon to be very big 4 yr old boy) and his comrades. Many deaf little precious kids in Paris. The school is preparing for it's end-of-year show. And Parker's class called "Jaune Soleil" (Yellow Suns) consists of 5 children: Aida, Laura, Yannis, Clement and Parker. They are planning to exposé how international their group is---Parker will be dressed as a cowboy, of course! He turned down the Statue of Liberty idea....I tried to explain to him that he would be dressed like a Cowboy, like WOODY (his favorite toy), but he was slow to catch the spirit of the project let's just say.... Aida has the most beautiful brown skin. Her mother is African or Antillian. Her father is French. She came to the group only this year. And all I remember of the first several times I saw her was that she was scared, and confused and crying. Today I spoke with her mom as she went into her individual speech therapy session and I went out. Her mother told me was she was doing well, and was much happier at the deaf school than she was at the hearing school (all of the kids do half time at deaf school, and half time at ordinary local neighborhood schools--I call them "hearing schools"). She told me she thought it was so confusing for her to lose her hearing at 15 months to meningitis. Oh! I nearly gasped. The dreaded word. But, I don't think my heart skipped a beat this time I heard it. But it did strike me with anguish. My soul was reopened after some pretty good scars have set in...Her too? Her parents, too? I was instantly softened by their sorrow and their story. Parker loves her. She is always smiling & fun. She's gorgeous--and so petite. Her brown doe eyes go right through me. And her sign for her name is done by having a closed hand by her eye, with the thumb extended, then turning it up and outward like eyelashes. It's appropriate. Great choice.Sometiems the name signs are pure inspiration. This one was right on! When Parker & I came out of speech, we also saw Clement's mom. Parker spent all of Sunday afternoon at their house for Clement's 4th birthday. He was so happy to see her, he couldn't take his eyes off her. Then Clement came down from his classroom. It was the first time I'd seen Parker exclaim while running towards him with open arms, "Meee-ment!"(It's how he says Clement). He gave him a huge hug as if it had been more than 55 minutes since they had last seen each other. Clement's mom had an intrauterine infection that they didn't even know about until Clement was born and found he had been infected, too. Soon after they realized he was deaf. Clement just had his 2nd implant surgery a few weeks ago. He signs like a champion--and I have no idea what he's saying when he solicits me. It breaks my heart. I can tell in his eyes he wants so badly to tell me, or explain something to me. He's got 2 hearing brothers. He's as french as they come. I have been closest to his mom from the beginning. She just had her 3rd son, went back to work and moved. She's amazingly organized, and on the Board for French deaf education. Laura is a bright, curly haired brunette of Portuguese/French origin. She also has eyes to die for. Every time I see her look at me, I can practically see the synapses in her brain hard at work. She's getting it. She gets the big picture. And she's talking up a storm. But she is "coquine" ( a little bit naughty!) as they say in french---when I arrived on scene at CEOP today the head therapist was discussing with her father why Laura acts up during her individual sessions. They were asking the question if it would be better if her parents did not actually attend with her, because she works SO GREAT when they are not around. Apparently yesterday she said, "Monkey"...and the deaf educator said, "No, Laura. Ce n'est pas un monkey, c'est un singe." She replied, "Maman dit monkey."..the teacher was suddenly confused thinking, perhaps, her mom, too was American, like Parker's....then quickly corrected her saying, "No, c'est pas Maman qui dit monkey. C'est Parker!" She had learned this word from Parker. Everyone laughed. They will be a deaf multilingual group! WHAT'S NOT TO LOVE ABOUT THAT?? Yannis is a 4 yr old Moroccan French boy with 2 other deaf siblings. Both of his parents are hearing. Today he mouthed and signed to me like I was just like everyone else (but I'm obviously much slower, especially with french signs). I honestly had NO IDEA again what he was trying to say to me. He does not have any implants. He wears hearing aids, but they don't help him much. He does fantastically well keeping up with the group and following what is going on, I am often amazed that he can't hear at all. I think he is scheduled to get 1 or 2 implants this summer. It will be a hard adjustment for him, but no doubt change his life--and his relationship with his classmates and his world. He's obsessed with CARS, just like Parker and Clement. Did I mention his eyes? They sear through my soul when he looks at me. Big and dark black. The french motto is: "Liberté-Egalité-Fraternité". Surprisingly I think about it a lot. It is not dissimilar to the way of American thinking. We just have differences in culture, right? Sometimes significant differences. But as I think of Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity today, I think of these little international deaf kids in a hearing world. I think that all they want is the liberty to be who they are, and to be accepted for that. They want to be treated just like everyone else, and they need brotherhood or sisterhood, comradery that they feel in their solidarity at their CEOP class rooms.Or in the hearing world, too. I am so thankful for CEOP. I cry. I am so grateful for these big fighting spirits that live inside these little bodies with dysfunctional ears. I love them. I love their eyes. I love their stories they sign to me, or even speak, but in my hearing or just way-too-foreign--way, I just can't always understand them. I love their parents for all of their suffering as well as their triumphs...past and future. I love their international theme.I love their cause. You would love them, too. And their eyes! Today I cry for Aida. But also for her future, her past, and her present difficulties. The good parts and the hard parts. I feel such an affinity for her and her comrades, sometimes its hurts. I hurt.