This morning as Beth was waiting for the neighbor to pick her up for school, she was hanging out in my office. My blog, and the last picture I posted of Amy, was displayed on my computer. She said, “Who’s that?” When I told her it was Amy she was shocked, and she commented on what a pouty face Amy wore. I scrolled down and displayed the rest of the recent pictures, and Beth asked, “Did Amy ever smile?” I said, “Sometimes, but it was…”

“Fake?” Beth filled in the blank even as I was speaking.


Beth was amazed that Amy would realize I was taking the picture and do nothing to change her demeanor. Beth was also shocked that someone would be brushing Amy’s teeth at that age, and Amy would be standing there doing nothing about it. “Oh well!” Beth said. “Better to go to bed with clean teeth!”



When I showed Beth some pictures of Amy “smiling” she said, “No wrinkles… she’s not really smiling!” Yup, right again.



And then Beth wanted to know if there were pictures of her smiling when she was young. You betcha. Even when Beth was still sad and somewhat mad, she could find it within herself to embrace life to some extent. She didn’t have the spark she does now, but she wasn’t entirely without enthusiasm.

I know there are other kids (and adults) in the world that are like Amy. I hear from their parents and other family members, both in the blog comments and directly through ADN. Some folks have kids that treat the family like dirt but at least “perform” in public settings, like school or sports or some other passion. It is the kids with NO passion that are the hardest to understand.


For school one year, Amy had a paper that needed to be filled out by other members of the family, listing things she enjoyed doing and was good at doing. Now, perhaps you’ll think I am exaggerating or being melodramatic, but it truly took all four healthy members of the family at that time—my husband, myself, Steph and Kyle—the better part of a day to come up with four answers. We listed reading, something about hanging out with the dogs (a stretch), something about cooking (another stretch) and something about music (as in listening… something she did often when she zoned out.) It was really, really sad, and really, really descriptive of her life and our lives.