March 18, 2021
March 18, 2021
It’s so hard to know what to say at this moment. I seem to have too many words and yet, not enough. When I think of Claire, I think of love. I think of light, of strength, and of laughter. I met Claire when she was just a little peanut of a girl and she, Colleen, and baby Chloe (that’s how long ago it was) came to visit Kid Quest as a possible after school program for Claire, and later I was with her in school. What an extraordinary girl and what an amazing family! I didn’t know much about Rett Syndrome when I first met her, but I researched as much as I could. But of course, Claire taught me more than any book or article could, not only about Rett Syndrome, but really, about life and what perseverance and determination mean. I don’t think I realized at the beginning just what an effect she was going to have on my life. I have so many wonderful memories through the years, of our time at Kid Quest, reading Green Eggs and Ham and getting her to laugh that laugh from the gut, that lit up her face and the room, hanging out in the garden, singing and walking and picking flowers to put in her hair, listening to music, and dancing with her. That gave her a laugh too, watching me dance. I remember when I first began learning how to feed her and getting that first look, that said, “oh brother, I’ve got to teach another one.”, but then getting that smile when I did it right. And oh, the sauerkraut! She knew I really disliked it, and when she had it in her lunch at school, which was often, I’d look at her when I saw it and she would almost always smirk or outright laugh when she saw me struggle with it. Claire had the best sense of humor, whether she was telling a joke on her device, or just giving a look or a smirk at just the right moment and sending us both into a giggle fest. Sometimes others were in on the joke, sometimes it was just between her and I. I remember each morning waiting for her to get to school, I looked forward to which pair of sunglasses, cool t-shirt, or snazzy pair of shoes she’d have on, and wondering which it would be. Some days it was all three. So many moments, too many to count, and as I think of them now, I smile and I am grateful for every single one. I remember the tough days and moments too, with seizures. I would watch her sometimes try to fight them off, or after she had one, sometimes bounce back and be ready to rock and roll. I was truly in awe of her. I learned that she just needed someone there to hold her hand, talk her through it, and just be there. I am thankful that Claire trusted me enough to be that person. I will be forever grateful to have known her, to have learned from her, to have been with her through fun times and tough times, to have shared so much with her, and I will always, always remember her, perhaps at times with tears, but always with a smile. When I hear a Beach Boys or Beatles song, or see something Disney, or see a cool pair of sunglasses, or countless other things, I will think of Claire and I will smile. Light, strength, laughter, love...Claire.