Mays Window

looking out this window day after day with my mother at my side makes me feel lucky that i have a mother so warm and caring; i wish i could whisper to her as much.

not every child is supposed to be born. the naturally selective process determines that the strongest survive. i was supposed to be born because i am here. birthing is the first earthly right of passage in a selective process that has been in place for (b) millions of years. i will pass on to infinity when i am no longer strong enough like every other living breathing animal. since i am here i feel obliged to tell you why i am here and what “here” is from the perspective of my societal sub-culture. may’s window is my attempt to pass on an assimilated form of myself, in a book if you will, because self-perpetuation is not possible for me.

my parents were not aware of my genetic deficiencies in utero. mom was asked once would she have terminated her pregnancy if she knew. Some would call that murder and some would call it sympathy. i refer to it as the most humane decision a parent can make.

i am not “writing” this book out of self pity i am “writing” for the sake of “writing”. it is cathartic, energizing, and necessary for me. pity should be saved for the mirthless and others who do not take advantage of the fact that it is a wonder we are even here.

being classified as a retard, idiot, dumb, haphazard, or delayed is not hurtful to me. i am quite ambivalent towards the stigma of my being. those are classifications based on my lack of response to invoked stimuli. it doesn’t mean i am not stimulated, it means my response is muted.

thank you to my father for helping me with the typing. my mother’s strength of will is un-fleeting and it makes this book possible. everybody in my family plays a role in the window to the world for me, olivia may reger, otherwise known as “little may”.