"Well, we fooled 'em for a long time, didn't we?"

Imagine that you suddenly lost the ability to read or sing or speak. Overnight, skills just started disappearing, including how to tell everyone else what is happening to you, when you don't really understand it yourself. There are memories when you knew how to do these things. Is it terrifying? Frustrating? There's a disorder, under the class of a childhood developmental disorder, where three year olds start forgetting how to do things, start forgetting how to speak. They start reacting to waking nightmares, hallucinations, and have no idea how to tell their parents what's happening.

"Childhood desire for companionship can become numbed through a history of failed social encounters."
-Wikipedia article on Asperger syndrome

Last night, before Nick and I went to pick up Emily, we shared dinner with my dad. NPR drifted smooth jazz from some Sunday evening program, maybe American Routes, and we got to discussing classical pianists. Eight hour a day focus, intensely preoccupied with black marks on white paper, to the point that simple verbal instructions "play these two chords" becomes a difficult task. My dad said that in the future, all these levels of focus would have names, ADD and Asperger's being broad descriptions. He then went on to casually announce that he has Asperger's. I'd never known it, though everything seemed to fall into an understanding.

"...research supports... and suggests a genetic contribution to Asperger syndrome."

I don't know where my abilities originate from. My mom has the worst memory I've ever encountered, while mine is one of the sharpest. She forgot her friend had cancer, while I remembered that it was thyroid cancer, and he'd lost his health insurance because he was laid off. I've had roughly the same schedule for four years, Tuesday and Thursday HiQ, Monday and Wednesday [activity]. She has never been able to retain this, scheduling all manner of appointments for times with well established engagements. Despite some tendencies towards isolation, I'm still social, whereas my dad is removed from the world except for his immediate family and clients.

"The sky so big it nearly broke my soul."

I have an honest to goodness picnic basket and there are ladybugs all over my house. I count them dotting windows in the morning and afternoons. The grass feels brighter than I've ever seen it. Even the walnut and maple trees in my yard are growing a mossy green bark. Spring is so barely sprung, but the birds are loudly courting and living outside. I think I'll go for a walk.

"Never tell a soul that we kissed."