loquacious

James woke up the other morning and told me about his dream in which he was visiting with his friend, Kate Mckenzie, and the only thing he could recall about the meeting was the word loquacious.  He did not know the meaning of the word so when we told him it meant talkative--he had to ponder the significance of the word in relation to Kate.  James thought that Kate was indeed rather talkative--but I added, not excessively so. 

I reminded him that his speech therapist had directed him to speak more often and at louder volumes.  I had James read poetry to me (a collection of poems by our friend, Tom Bolt and William Carlos Williams) to get him to use those vocal chords.  Talking will assist to rectify his swallowing difficulties.  Perhaps, Kate was the unconscious messenger to keep the notion of speaking alive in James's brain.  Thank you Kate!

His speech therapist gave him an exercise in which he must say the letter "e" at higher and higher octaves.  Saying the letter "e" mimics the position of the tongue at the first stages of swallowing.  Imogen and I laugh whenever James does this exercise with his wide eyes and "e," "e," "eeeee."  He looks and sounds slightly insane.  Robert added another layer to the exercise by suggesting that James start all sentences with the "e" octave slide before beginning to speak and then, demonstrating. I imagine it would make quite an impression at the local grocery store.

I wanted to take advantage of having the strength and love of Robert here to take James swimming for the first time.  Since we are enduring a heat wave, the public pools are open an extra hour at the end of the day. We strolled over in the afternoon and the line was long.  It was too hot to keep James outside, standing in line, so I suggested that we return around 6:00. Many people would not know about the extended hours and we would be able to walk right in.  We did just that--the line moved quickly and James was inside the pool in minutes upon reaching McCarren Park.

James was overwhelmed by the spectacle of human bodies escaping the heat.  The pool which was filled to capacity (1,500 people!) has a ramp with grab bars for the disabled to walk gradually into the pool beginning in the shallow end but of course, it is always covered by toddlers and their parents, playing around in the safe space.  We had to say, excuse me, as parents grabbed their children out of the way so James could wade into the depths.  Once we stepped over the safety line that separates the toddler section from the rest of the pool, which I held down underwater so James could place his unsteady legs over it, he was standing in the pool--his expression slightly distressed. I was worried we would have to get out. 

Robert noticed too and immediately said, "Yes, it is slightly overwhelming in here but I see a calm patch of water over there." He and I guided James to a quieter spot for him to become acclimated to the stimulation of screaming children and the bobbing of the water.  James was nervous but he lowered himself in and out--getting his chest wet.  I told him encouraging things such as the lack of worries about his balance because he was now outside of gravity.  He could float. 

Robert swam off to play with Imogen. I am forever grateful for Robert's sensitivities to our needs as a family. He constantly finds ways to include Imogen in everything--thinking about her needs and the difficulties she faces as a child that still wants to behave in a frolicking, carefree manner while knowing that her father's disabilities are first and foremost in everyone's mind.  She is not the center of attention but Robert never makes her aware of that--he constantly finds ways to allow her to be a playful eleven-year old.

Robert managed to swim back to James and me at precisely the right time.  Robert and James spent hours in the pool together as teenagers playing water polo--Robert had pushed James's limits as a young man and they continued to love challenging one another into their adulthood.  I was weary about the situation, worrying if James was ready for the water and the disruption of the flailing limbs of teenagers flopping into James's swimming trajectory.  He did fine.  Robert was always there to guide and protect him but also, spur him on to reach his goal.  Robert supported James's back so that he could float, lying flat, head slightly above the water.

James became determined and decided he wanted to swim the length of the pool with the breast stroke.  McCarren Park pool was a Robert Moses olympic size project and the pool is incredibly long.  I thought it was a little crazy but Robert was convinced that James could do it. I watched James's face as he focused on the distant ledge of the pool. Robert and I continued to check in with James and he told us he was fine, although, his expression was slightly difficult to read.  He felt an enormous sense of accomplishment to touch the ledge with his hand. 

James's shoulders have been aching from the physical therapy and the pool offers a way for him to stretch through the water in a manner that feels completely natural to him. Robert echoed the feeling that James was experiencing, comfortable again in his body, by encouraging him and explaining that this will be the means for James to return to himself--the best form of therapy.

Both Robert and I were holding back from crying.

James was shivering from the cold of the water.  In the past, we enjoyed the feeling of being cold and the pleasure of getting out and feeling the heat without it's ability to drain us.  However, since James is in a weakened state, he was too cold--he was not able to bounce immediately back. I was grateful to have Robert with me. We took off James's wet suit and threw several towels around him. He was warm in just a few minutes but I was nervous by his shivering.  A parks department staff person walked over to ask if he was stable. 

I realized then how we must have appeared among all the healthy Greenpoint families splashing in the water.  I should have known when a startled teenage kid, wearing a gold chain and poking fun at a group of girls became solemn and apologized as James made his way across the pool.

It was a victory for us.

I am thankful for Robert's strength and knowledge of James's capabilities.  It was a good first run. I will return prepared for the next swim with warm clothing for his exit from the pool.  I also have an idea about what James is able to do in the water and what I need to protect him from with regard to his own limitations and those swimming around him.

Robert flew home today with Imogen.  James's brother Jeff met them at the San Francisco airport and sent me a photograph of Imogen sleeping in the back seat of his car, on their way to the Russian River. He will wake her for a lunch at In-and-Out Burger--Imogen loves the chocolate milkshakes there.

James and I are both melancholic regarding her departure. It is the first time she will be away from us.  She starts middle school in September.  James thinks she will come home from this trip a slightly different person.

I recall seeing my mother and father waiting for me the first time I returned from sleep-away camp. I attended a month long camp up in the wilds of Trinity National Forest.  The five hour bus ride ended at a drop-off point in San Francisco.  I looked out the window of the bus and saw my six foot four father standing next to my four foot ten mother. When I disembarked from the bus, my mother called out my name and I heard her Japanese accent for the first time in my life! I never recognized it before that moment. I realized, holy shit, my mother is Japanese!  It seems ridiculous but it took that month away for me to see my parents as they truly existed in the world.

I wonder what Imogen will think of her parents!