Some thoughts about tattoos. .. .

I've never been a big believer in tattoos, but I think I've changed my mind.  I can't explain it better than what my grandson Adam posted on his Facebook page the other day, so I think I will just reprint his words here. 

"I've always loved tattoos but never had anything that I was passionate enough about to make permanent on my body. Then 4 years ago (his bday is tomorrow) Grayson changed our lives. So yesterday, at 36 years old, I got my first tattoo. Yes, that is his actual silhouette. I'm looking forward to explaining to random people the meaning behind the tattoo. DIFFERENT...NOT LESS!!!"

Adam's son, and my beautiful great-grandson Grayson, is autistic.  We have all learned so much about autism in the four short years that he has been with us.  One important moment of understanding about this puzzling situation came when Adam had us all read a book titled "The Reason I Jump" by a 14 year old autistic Japanese boy. That book allowed us to have insight into the very different world that our little boy was experiencing at times.  And if you have ever heard of Temple Grandin, or seen the documentary about her, you will recognize her very important description of people like her who live with autism, ,. "Different. . Not Less". . the words that Adam has added to the design of his tattoo.

I urge you to remember those words, because they are a true description of the person of any age on the autistic spectrum.  The puzzle pieces are also symbolic of autism and the color blue has come be associated with it as well.  A few weeks ago I posted a photo of myself wearing blue to celebrate "Light it up Blue for Autism" week. 

So here is the exciting news I am so happy to share with everyone. So far, Grayson is non-verbal. His Mom, Amy, and his Dad, Adam, have been working along with the wonderful teachers at the school he goes to, to hopefully help him to begin to talk.  Wednesday was G's 4th birthday and he gave all of us an incredible present. (The tears are starting to flow.)

 He spoke his first word!

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Poet laureate, I'm not.

I've never considered myself to be a poet, despite my penchant for writing jingles for every occasion in the life of my daughter Andrea and my grandson Adam.  Andrea received a birthday poem every year from age 16 to 21 and a "wedding poem" on the occasion of her marriage.  Adam was the recipient of poems all through high school and college, ending in his graduation from the University of Florida, although I think I remember writing a poem when he married Amy.

I mention this because I have just entered a poetry contest.  Don't ask why.  It's not exactly Emily Dickinson style poetry, actually it's more like haiku, very off beat, and really shouldn't rhyme, but it is a contest.  And the more I read about it, the more I knew I had to at least try.

This is O, Miami month here in Miami.  O, Miami is a Knight Foundation-funded organization that expands and advances literary culture in Greater Miami, FL.  At least that's what it says on the web site.  It produces visiting writer series and other programs that bring the best literature to the greatest number of people.  It also produces an annual Poetry Festival and this year they are asking entries to write an "Ode To Their Zip Code".  In other words, a five line poem with each line having the exact amount of words as the numbers in your zip code.

My zip code is 33133.  Not a lot of letters to work with, that's for sure, and please remember, I live in a place called Coconut Grove, and they tend to look for weird.  Here's my entry:

ODE TO 33133

Groove on, Grove.
Miami's last vestige
of
the bohemian lifestyle
disappearing into air.
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The winners get to read their entries aloud at the Festival's grand finale.  I'll let you know how I do.  Don't hold your breath.

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