Wrapped Emotions-The Blink of an Eye

I am participating in a photo/writing event called Wrapped Emotions, in which we take a photograph of something and, as the blog author suggests:

...step forth into the world. A public place, not your living room or Aunt Bessie's kitchen. Find an object or objects that you have seen before...by objects I mean anything from buildings to poles to poodles to garbage trucks, anything. Lie on your back on the ground or floor and snap at least one photo from that vantage point. Relax. Hold on to the emotions running rampant through your body as you do this and use them in finalizing your creation.

Post the photo on your blog along with your thoughts...remember the emotions you felt as you snapped the photo...and anything that happened while getting your shot. Talk about the experience. Set the scene. Write a post that let's you relive your emotions and insight from the new vantage point. Have you taken anything away from the experience that might help you approach your life from a new vantage point? What do you have to say?

Take a deep breath, letting the oxygen fuel your creative, daring spirit and go snap that photo.

I just found this blog, and have not yet had time to go OUT and do my thing, but the suggestions about what to photograph made me think about a picture I took about 2 years ago that has captured the essence of my life. Not my OLD life, when I was just Michelle, a mom determined to raise her kids well. But my NEW life, the life that I was given when I had my daughter Ciarra, who has Down syndrome. The life that changed forever in the blink of an eye. Or the shape...of an eye.



It was a quiet late summer afternoon, and Ciarra was 7. She had a terrible fear of bugs, and a brave little spirit that wanted to overcome it. And so, at my direction, she came to the window to look at a tiny ladybug climbing up up up the glass. If you have children, you have had those moments, when the sheer delicate beauty of your child grabs your heart full throttle and leaves you breathless. This was one of those moments. She was afraid, and yet she was open. SHe was being brave, for me. The power of that trust is mind-boggling. Here is this little person, with their own fears and worries, doing everything they can, to please you.
She stepped into the sunlight, turned her magnificent eyes upwards, and captured my heart as if she had just been born. Emotions came flooding in; pride, joy, respect, tenderness, faith, appreciation. When Ciarra was born, I was afraid of what DS would bring. I could never know that in that first instant she locked eyes with me, when I knew with every fiber of my being that she would force me to face my fears, that I was hopelessly lost in her beautiful eyes. I might not have wanted to have a child with Down syndrome, but now I did. And it was time to do some fast learning.
This picture brings back a flood of memories for me. Of that day, when she trusted her mommy enough to come and face her fears, all the while reminding me that I had faced my own, by loving her. The picture shows the incredibly beautiful Brushfield's Spots, a feature of DS. The little white spots dance around her iris like tiny stars. They were the same spots that once moved me to write a poem in which one line said "She kisses the angels, she touches the skies. God gave her stars, to wear in her eyes." God gave her those magical eyes, and He gave me the courage and love to be able to look into them knowing I have risen to this challenge I once so feared. When school stuff or worries about the future scare me, all I have to do is lose myself in those eyes and I am reminded that I am a better person for having her. I am graced with her presense, humbled by her beauty, and forever grateful to have had the opportunity to see the world through her beautiful eyes.