Staring at the Ceiling

Rose had dreamed of this for years.  She was so excited to finally be here.

After being herded past thousands of pieces of magnificent artwork,

we entered through the crowded doorway

of  the anticipated site and descended the steps.

We had expected solemn silence, but instead there was talking and pushing

and guards yelling “Silenzio!”

Our group was being moved, in mass, with our leader and her orange flag in the front.

There was barely time to pause and look up during our allocated minutes.

Rose’s father, brother and I were busy being bustled about, but Rose was staring at the ceiling.

Her eyes titled up, her lips parted and her chin dropped.

Rose’s face looked exactly like it looks when she is starting to have a seizure.

The three of us rushed to her side at once.

We startled her out of her rapturous moment.  She was furious with us.

Our time in the chapel was up.  Our orange flag was on the move. We must follow it.

Our tour group was herded out of the chapel only to rush past more famous pieces of art.

Whether in Rome or at home.

We are always alert for a seizure.

Our fear had ruined this precious memory,  like so many others.

Forgive us Rose.

Author: Flower Roberts

I am a garden blogger and a mother. This blog is about my daughter Rose and her triumph over epilepsy. We are in the process of completing a book, Watching Rose Rise. We need folks who understand life with seizures to give us some feedback. Rose is off at college right now so I, Flower, am running the blog PLEASE come and join us. We want to get this right.

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