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My Friend

 There is a program offering respite care; if your baby has behavioral challenges, a helper will come to your house and manage bedtime, and you can sit silently and stare at a wall for one or two hours.


I have a friend whose child is on an idiosyncratic path. I love this friend. She has a religious background, but she is salty. "When they try to deny your respite care, you need to use the word crisis. Call them every day and say you are on the verge of a crisis. Say, I'm just hoping to avert a crisis here...."

We are sitting at an outdoor pizza party for four-year-olds....Olivia Rodrigo spills out from the speakers: I'm so blue, know we're through....BUT I STILL FUCKING LOVE YOU, BABE!!!!

"People are so lost," says my friend. "I'm walking with my son, and this bitch sees his leg brace, and she mumbles, audibly, That just breaks my heart....And I say: Would you care to elaborate? My child has a huge smile on his face. Can you tell me about your broken heart?"

My friend says, "Everyone has a particular road to walk down, and that's fine. You have a nice road you're on. Try to notice that."

I think of Lorrie Moore; when her child had some medical issues, she became a hurricane. Sitting through a consultation, she grew impatient with the evasiveness. "You wonder why the doctors missed the tumor?" she said. "Maybe they missed it because.....they are not very smart?"

Moore wrote with empathy and grace--and her record of early motherhood has been a crutch I've leaned on (for over twenty years).

Sometimes, it's just a relief to whine in good company.
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