This morning, Ellie, my precious 8 year old, one of the oldest souls I know; a child so filled with joy it seems amazing that she is still ticking like she is, came into my room just after she finished breakfast. She knew I was going to tell her she needed to get ready for school. Mornings around here are always a rush.
Just before the words came out of my mouth, she held up her hand and said, "I know, I know. Just a minute."
It made me laugh a little.
Then she said, "mom, I want to talk to my lawyer." (yes, she has her own now, we haven't gotten to that part in the story yet).
I was surprised because we hadn't talked about lawyer stuff or DP or anything for awhile.
"Okay." I said sheepishly. "You are seeing DJ tonight." That is her therapist who we just see monthly now.
"I know," she said. "But, I want to talk to SH," she said.
"Okay." Again, sheepishly. "You okay?"
"No. I want this over with. And I want to talk to the judge. And I want to tell that to SH."
Well, of course you do, Ellie. My brave, strong girl.
As she turned to go and get dressed. I wondered in my heart, not so much in my head, what had brought that on. What had she been thinking about and why had she approached me then and today and why now?
Tears came to my eyes as I thought about all that she bears on a daily basis and I thought if only it were that easy. A talk with the lawyer, our very own Perry Mason, who would magically fix everything. And, in 60 minutes, including commercials, nonetheless.
I wiped my tears and helped E pick out something to wear. There was second grade to finish after all...
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