No, Namine isn’t banished. It’s me. I’m writing this as I sit out in the lobby of Namine’s dance studio.
Namine was uncertain whether or not she wanted to bring her walker to dance this week. You might remember that we’d forgotten it last time, and she did enjoy dancing with her class from the comfort of her chair. In her own words:
Sometimes being in my walker hurts. It was nice sitting in my wheelchair and not having to push myself up with my arms.
I told Namine that ultimately, it was her choice. I put the walker in the back of the car anyway and told her that I would ask only one thing of her. I said, “I want you to think about what it is you want to get out of dance class. Not just what is easy, but what you think is the right thing to do.”
When we arrived at the dance studio, I helped Namine into her wheelchair. Then I asked her if I should bring her walker into the studio.
She said, “It may hurt, but I am in dance to dance with my friends. I want you to bring my walker.”
I carried Namine’s walker into the classroom, and the teacher asked if I was staying in the classroom. She was Namine’s teacher last year, so she understood. I looked at Namine. She looked at me, then shook her head.
“I got this, Daddy.”