Lots of happy here, as it should be.
And a piece of heavy that weighs on the heart.
We all need to keep reaching to help move the heavy.

that cynking feeling

Philip was on a roll. He lightly gripped my hand with his left while pushing his right against the wall to propel himself forward. He skated toward the far end of the rink that was lined with mirrors. I knew he would pause there to admire his own mug.

“I see you,” I said with a smile.

I had lost count of the number of laps we had made but they far outpaced his falls. We made several circuits before taking a break.

“He’s skated before,” the owner remarked as Philip headed to the flashing lights of the arcade games.

“This is our third time,” I confirmed.

“He’s doing great,” was the reply.

I had never considered taking my seven-year-old autistic son roller skating until his cub scout pack held its holiday party at a local rink. The den leader assured me that I could walk alongside Philip in street shoes…

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