That was the name of a doll Grans had given me when Mom was pregnant so I could “practice” being a big sister.
It was one of those dolls that are incredibly lifelike, and I had carried it everywhere for months,
changing its diaper, feeding it. I’m told I even made a baby sling for it.
The story goes that after my initial reaction to August, it only took a few minutes (according to Grans)
or a few days (according to Mom) before I was all over him: kissing him, cuddling him, baby talking to him.
After that I never so much as touched or mentioned Lilly ever again.
Seeing August
I never used to see August the way other people saw him. I knew he didn’t look exactly normal,
but I really didn’t understand why strangers seemed so shocked when they saw him.
Horrified. Sickened. Scared. There are so many words I can use to describe the looks on people’s faces.
And for a long time I didn’t get it. I’d just get mad. Mad when they stared. Mad when they looked away.
“What the heck are you looking at?” I’d say to people—even grown-ups.
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