"We'll always have Oak Cliff...."

Since we moved here, almost six years ago, I have enjoyed relative anonymity. I never held a job here and then the girls' challenges led to further isolation. For the most part, this suited me.

After we began our journey on the spectrum, I was out and about much more and naturally, I met people. However, unlike that which is the habit of other social contacts, we generally only ran into one another in waiting rooms, at social skills classes, or in the vitamin aisle at Whole Foods. I still moved about the city with relative anonymity. I liked this; it worked for me.

Now that the girls are in school and activities, in other words, now that we walk among the vanilla people, I am finding my quiet, unassociated life slipping away from me. On Monday I helped out a friend with her daughter so I took my girls and her to Chik Filet to eat and play. I immediately ran into a group of ladies with their children from church. After we got our food and the girls alighted for the playground, I ran into several mothers from their school. It was unnerving to me to encounter two groups of people that knew me and my children. After the restaurant, I took the girls to Abby's make up ballet class and low and behold, there were two more families from the girls' school and another lady from our church.

After all that unexpected socializing I was exhausted. It was nice on one hand, but tiring and I was very selfconcious all day. When I told Jimmy about my day he said, "At least you'll always have Oak Cliff."

It may not be Paris but its all I've got.

My covert operative status is slipping away.
God grant me the serenity to accept this change in my social scheme.
__________________

“Let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice.
Look to the Lord and his strength; seek his face always.”
1 Chron. 16:10-11