Flashback # 4
Watchful and Sensitive
Chapter 15
I wrote Your Name In The sand but The waves Washed It Away, Then I wrote It In The sky but the Wind Blew It Away, So I wrote It In My Heart and That's where It Will stay.
I loved my daughter - She was my source of happiness and as a young child she seemed so caring and sensitive to others. But as she grew there were other signs, other behaviors that I overlooked. - Perhaps I shouldn’t have.
My daughter was bright and extremely vocal. As a baby and toddler, she hit all her milestones early. She was walking more than proficiently at 9 months, completely bypassing the crawling stage. The first day I placed her on the toilet, strapped into a baby pottie insert, she was toilet trained.
She spoke early and chattered incessantly. When we went for walks, I was amazed how she filled our steps with words, words and more words! It was like she didn’t need me. I was a body there to absorb the chatter but not meant to interact.
She seemed an affectionate and caring child. Every morning, the first thing we did was hug and kiss each other and I would tell her I loved her. Because my parents were not tactile and had not verbally expressed love this way, and because I believed it was important for the security and emotional well-being of a child to do so, I bent over backwards to make sure my child had a rich and constant supply of this emotional expression: she was hugged and kissed and told she was loved several times a day.
I recall when she was a toddler, only 2, taking her for one of her shots. She was in my arms and I was amazed as I saw her matter-of-factly watch the needle go into her arm - not a flinch, not a tear. Then, when the toddler behind her got the needle and began crying, she stretched out her arms to be allowed to comfort this child. I brought her close and she wrapped her arms around this child to comfort her.
As a young child, she had an unusual compulsion to feel and stroke people. This could be embarrassing at times. When friends would visit, she would plop herself beside them and proceed to rub and stroke their arms. She would do the same with me, telling me how soft my skin was. She would even attempt to rub my legs in church !
She, herself, was physically sensitive. From the time she could sit up, she was in the habit of taking her finger and meticulously opening her toes, and running her fingers between them. I thought this strange because she was bathed daily and was always clean. When she was older, she told me she was sensitive to the tiniest piece of dust that might get between her toes - that it bothered her.
Later, when she suffered from allergies she would tell me that she would get itchy inside of her ears, where she could not scratch, and on the roof of her mouth. I had allergies as well, but my itching would be contained to my eyes. I could not even fathom getting itchy inside ones ears and on the roof of the mouth!
At home, as a young child, in the house, she was comfortable walking around in her “birthday suit” and I even recall, one time, her removing her clothes in a friends yard and running around the house. I don’t recall her pulling on her clothes or complaining about them or showing any other signs of being sensitive to clothing. As a toddler, I often let her go shoeless - but this was my doing, having read articles that it was best for proper foot development to let children go shoeless as much as possible - But when she wore shoes, she had the best I could find, properly measured and fitted at the “Kiddie Kobler”.
When she was older and into playing musical instrument, first flute, then clarinet, and then piano, I was to discover that she had a very sensitive ears, hearing sounds in the instruments her music teacher’s were not aware of until she brought it to their attention. Her music teacher’s always commented positively on this “gift”.
This ear also displayed itself in other ways. She told me that from the inside of our apartment building, in the living room, the room farthest from the main road that crossed our street, she could hear when busses passed and she could tell which direction they were traveling. I could not even begin to even hear the buses in the apartment. We were located at the back of our building and the main road the buses ran on were some distance from the us.
As a teen, my daughter always had the curtain in her room closed. At the time, I remember I thought she was just lazy and I used to get after her for this - but the curtains always remained drawn. Now, when I think about this, and I wonder if she was sensitive to the light. I don’t remember any other situations of light sensitivity, that I noticed, but, if she was so sensitive to sound, perhaps she was also sensitive to light.
As a teen, I also remember her telling me about her fascination with watching people. For me this was different. Growing up I had always been shy and I did not watch people very much. At my worst, when I was very young, I had my head down to strangers and even hid behind my mother’s skirt. I have since learned the importance of watching people, especially when you are discussing important issues. But at that time, as a young mother I still did not do much watching.
One day my daughter told me about her activities when she went with a bunch of her friends to an amusement park that had various enjoyments including water slides. She informed me she would rather park herself along a pathway where numerous people passed by and just watch them instead of engaging with her friends. At the time, I recall I thought this rather strange for a young person out with her friends, but I recall thinking about the value of such a trait. For example authors: I good writer would have to be a excellent observer of people to be able to incorporate various characters into their books.
This was not me, and was certainly not my idea of a good time, but I supposed this was a harmless, and perhaps even a positive, pastime for my daughter.
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