to my husband
November 6, 2011 § Leave a comment
Lately I am reminded of our earliest days with our son. My heart recalls the impossible goodbyes in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, immediately lonely for our son’s company and worried about his well-being in our absence. Logically I understood the hospital was trained to care for our son’s needs, but my heart could not fathom leaving him each day. With all my doubts of late, an old question haunts me: Will he be okay?
I carry a special memory of you that I call on when uncertain or overwhelmed by a new challenge with our son. It was the first time we were allowed to hold our son. He was impossibly tiny and covered in a tangle of tubes, you were standing closest while I absorbed the sight of him. In a gesture filled with limitless love, you stepped aside and let me hold our son first. It would have been easy for you to gather him to you for a moment and then deposit him in my arms, but instead you let me hold him and I gathered him close like a salve to a tender ache. In that moment I was whole and at peace with the world, joyful. You stood patently nearby, proud and eager without complaint.
Your quiet strength and generosity allow me the unique experience of mothering from a place of authenticity. Thank you for giving me so much without asking. As I struggle to process my feelings and thoughts, be patient still. I know you are nearby, waiting without complaint.
literally speaking
November 5, 2011 § Leave a comment
My son has a tendency for literal definitions. The other day, when asked how he was, he told my friend he was gay. Out loud, in a middle school hallway, he outed himself as happy. A week later, he used the word gay in a classroom and was reprimanded. I am now struggling to determine how to explain context and innuendo appropriately for my literally speaking son.
My conflict rests between definitions and defining. My son’s original understanding of “happy” is not incorrect, but to others may not feel appropriate for reasons outside my son’s comprehension. A peer explained to my son that gay is when two boys like one another. My son likes lots of friends, some of them boys. Literally, the second definition is missing something too, but my son does not yet know about the birds and the bees and I am not sure either of us is ready for that conversation. So how do I approach the unspoken innuendo without supplementing context outside my son’s knowledge?
To add another layer of complexity, I like that my son doesn’t define people by color, faith, or sexual preference. I am hesitant to begin dividing people into categories to explain a misinterpretation. I am lost in translation, literally.
a new chapter
November 4, 2011 § Leave a comment
As I begin a new chapter in my family’s life I expect there are others with whom we share this journey that may find comfort, validation, or a sense of community in our experiences.
I have written briefly about my son’s diagnoses. Wise beyond his years he embraces his diagnoses publicly, but sees himself clearly without labels. In a world where he is forever trying to fit a round peg into a square hole, my son is content with his rounded edges. In fact, these very differences are so much of what I love about my son that it would be impossible to wish away his challenges.
Fast-forward from diagnoses to present day and you meet us at a new crossroad. My son is struggling in school and I have begun to realize he needs tools I cannot name. For all the books, conferences, magazines, and doctors I have sought guidance I am lost in the halls of academics. Recently, a moment of grace lead me to a woman who is patiently teaching me the language of advocating for my son’s education.
It is only the beginning, too early to share more than my location on a new path. But I want to mark this journey, celebrate a new milestone, and share my experiences as a mother navigating Special Education.
to my daughter
November 3, 2011 § Leave a comment
I see you watching attentively as we navigate new territory with your big brother. Your patience and love is a source of pride each day. When we struggle to balance the demands of the day, you find ways to bring happiness and celebration into our lives with simple sharings and acts of kindness. Your humor and wit breathe impulsive moments of joy amid moments of frustration. Thank you for the special gift of your presence in our days. Love, Mom
to my son
October 30, 2011 § Leave a comment
There are many moments over which my heart dwells. Tonight I pause to imagine a new future for you. We are in a strange place of transition. So much of what I have endeavored to do has been inspired by hope and good intentions, books and the advice of doctors. Tonight I spoke with a mother who shares my dreams and who’s children share your days. It is a new chapter in our journey together and I am so excited for the days ahead. Sleep tight, tomorrow is a new beginning. Love, Mom
once upon a time
October 29, 2011 § 2 Comments
I imagined my Prince Charming would sweep me into a Fairy Tale. I married a man who lives with me in a place of reality, it is a life beyond the pages of my childhood stories. Long before Happily Ever After, there are everyday moments of chivalry.
This week my husband sat quietly at the dinner table, pouring over pages of math in an effort to guide our son. Hours passed and his patience lingered as our son slowly grasped a new concept. I sat separately with our daughter, grateful for a partner that shares in long nights heavy with frustration. There was no white horse or castle peeking over a distant hill, just the sight of my husband and son bent over messy numbers with sleepy eyes.
Good night stories are never-ending, my husband sits alongside his princess happy to accommodate her pleas for just one more chapter from a new book. He will forever be her knight in shining armor, warding off the shadows and drawing her into dreams as she slips into sleep. A small wish granted at the end of a long day.
Today, while children everywhere prepare to pretend and embrace fantasy for Halloween, my mind and heart are filled with gratitude for my prince and our real life love story.
distress signal
October 28, 2011 § Leave a comment
I am uncomfortable asking for help. Instead, I joke in an effort to make light of a problem, deny I need help, or escape the reality of a difficult moment in a book or with busy work. This week, in the company of friends, I gave voice to distress; I sent out a signal for help. Friends guided me towards a place of strength.
The realization that I am uncomfortable asking for help came a few years ago when I was in preterm labor with my daughter. As I lay in bed, unable to care for myself or my family, I was forced to prioritize our needs and seek help. Asking and accepting were exercises in humility. I could not use humor or denial to escape the reality of my needs.
Recently as I absorb my son’s struggles, feelings of fear, uncertainty, and helplessness have left me sad, angry, confused, and overwhelmed. Despite my best efforts to guide my son, I feel lost; uncertain if I have a right to ask for help for myself. In an act of grace friends taught me to ask for and accept help.
Clarity came early in the week when I met with a friend that speaks openly about both personal and health challenges. Without shame and with genuine feeling she shares openly her conflict. Listening I found strength in her vulnerability, unhindered by apology. My friend’s recognition of her own challenges and fears gave me strength to look directly at my own.
I believe difficult truths are revealed in stages. Soon after listening to one friend’s sharing, fate gifted me time with an old friend that gave me strength to embrace vulnerability and share my fears. I let the words tumble freely accepting my own helplessness in the security of another’s care.
Awareness and openness lead to a moment of guidance. A third friend absorbed one of my challenges and lent me wisdom from her experiences. I collected the knowledge like moments of serenity.
Yesterday I sat with another friend, named my problem, admitted I am finding my way, and then let go of trying to project a sense of strength. My openness was met with compassion. I let my worries sit with us in silence; I did not ignore them, mock them, or pretend them away. I gave them sun and air, looking at them clearly in the light of day.
I am learning to accept vulnerability and to celebrate fortitude in the healing place of friendship. Thank you to each of the women who recognized my distress signal.
heart song
October 26, 2011 § Leave a comment
Once in a blue moon we meet someone who hears the song in our heart. The recognition is quiet, but the affirmation resonates across years. The intricate language of unspoken thoughts finds a voice in friendship.
I don’t remember the beginning, the becoming, I only remember the music is louder when we’re together. I feel understood, moods translated across memories. The years fall away and my laugh is centered in the spirit of a young girl untethered by the titles of marriage and motherhood.
Stories of moments unshared from college, marriage, and motherhood are swapped like sweaters of our youth; with an ease that comes from time and comfort. I met today with a heavy heart and in moments shared with a friend I found peace. I heard my heart song.
muddled memories
October 24, 2011 § 1 Comment
The passage of time creates pockets of memory loss in which embellishments flourish. First loves are lost loves, old friends become characters in stories more grand than the experience, and acquaintances infer connections. I am cautious of faded memories.
With the evolution of social media there exists a dangerous intersection of past and present. I myself am guilty of nostalgia misplaced; logic blurred with flattery and sentiment.
In moments of reflection, I have sent a memory or well-wish into the vast space of ungathered messages. Occasionally, the recipient would welcome the wish, sharing a memory of their own. More often an impersonal request for friendship would follow and I felt caught, uncomfortably in a new relationship with an old acquaintance; a friendship built on brief histories and void of futures.
I marvel at these broken connections; the known and unknown, fact and fiction creating mixed messages and miscommunication. Uncertain of the unspoken etiquette for friendships fostered so abstractly, I discretely excuse myself from a conversation cluttered with assumptions. Good-byes leave me wondering at the wisdom of merging moments in one lifetime with a casual hello.
daddy’s girl
October 22, 2011 § Leave a comment
Her laughter bubbles from a place of genuine joy and spills recklessly, absorbing observers and drawing them into a smile. She is her father’s daughter. His laugh is as infectious as it is spontaneous, ricocheting off the walls with rapid fire guffaws.
She sails across the boundaries of restraint eager and animated. Whimsy and mischief follow her in search of adventure. He leaps into action, driven by curiosity unhindered by caution.
Her features are expressive, her thoughts and emotions an open book. His face is a story of humor and worry as he navigates business and play. I read volumes as I watch them both.
Her heart is as large as her smile, her emotions fragile. I guide her firmly, but with frequent hugs and reassurance. He is deceptively strong, secretly sensitive. I hold both their hands and listen closely for hurt; mindful that despite their strength and humor they require extra care.
