It’s been a couple days of crazy up in here.
Chronic pain and a rigidly thinking mind make terrible partners.
My son has struggled to eat, to move, and to think clearly for 48 hours.
I have been in tears more the last two days, than in the two total months prior.
In the haze of meltdowns, narrowly avoided meltdowns, and the hyper-vigilence of anticipating the next meltdown, I woke up totally unprepared for life this morning.
But my son didn’t. For whatever reason (you know how it goes) he woke up just fine. He asked for food (whaaaa?). He wanted to go to the church mixer at the park, and see all his friends.
And we actually went.
We went because we knew there would be people there that knew us, that loved us, that understood.
We went because we knew there would be people there that wouldn’t judge us if a major meltdown happened and we have to leave.
We went because we all really, really needed to get out of the house and just be a family.
We went because you just never really know how the day is going to go anyway, and why not at least give it a try.
I am so glad we did.
We took the wheelchair. Turns out we barely needed it. He played as much as he could, and then sat in the shade while his friends played.
Every once in a while I would glance over, checking to make sure he was OK. Every single time he was smiling.
He was talking about dog breeds and Minecraft and Percy Jackson. While his friends climbed on the play equipment, he even took off his shoes and went into the sand to be near them. Sand and my son go way back and have never been on good terms. But today, he braved it for the joy of just being a kid with his friends.
It was like God was whispering to me all day long – I love you. I love him. I see you. I see him. I’ve got you. I’ve got him.
And the truth is, I needed time with my people too. Time to love on and be loved. Time to talk about the pain. And time to laugh.
And so, I leave you with this…
If you are worried about going somewhere with your child because of all the things that are different with your child, or the threat of the meltdown, or the feeling that it might be embarrassing – my advice is to JUST GO. Sometimes it will be a disaster. Sometimes, it won’t. Either way, you gotta try to live life.
Sometimes, God may even use it to bless your ever lovin’ socks off.
And sometimes, when your child isn’t using his wheelchair, you can have your friend videotape something like this –
The fun and the release and the joy of being mommas together, with different kids and different lives, but together just the same.
Thank you to the girlz that make my life not only possible, but laughable and lovely.
I am so glad we made it today.