It lies in the shadows and bides its time until, out of no where it pounces and sinks it’s teeth into my neck. I feel the wind rushing out of my lungs and my knees buckle. I crumple to the ground but I can’t cry. My heart is pounding out of my chest and my mouth is dry.
Things change. People move on- baby is born, a grandparent dies and children go away to college, suddenly cast as young adults. I love seeing the fretting parents around their child headed for their freshman year of college. They spend way too much on dorm room (un)necessities, make sure they have their food plan and have plenty of sweaters. Because of Facebook I’ve had the privilege of getting to experience first hand their pain, their excitement and their despair. It usually isn’t what they say, it’s reading between the lines of what they are writing. It seems fitting that it is fall, everything getting a little cooler, the leaves falling off the trees and trampled into dirt. That feeling of being alone and empty.
I find my life fulfilling and meaningful. I love laughter, beauty and sunlight. I close my eyes and feel the warmth of it on my face, like a touch. I pray for my husband and my children and I see God’s gentle nudging in their lives. Today is great, the threat of tomorrow makes me turn away- I feel the pain already and I fight it away, closing myself from it.
I’ve been told that my oldest will never go to college. That he’ll never want to. That he’ll just stay at home and live with me forever. I’ll never drive away in tears as we leave him in his dorm room, awkwardly waving and hoping no one is watching him. I’ll never complain how he comes home with bags of dirty laundry and takes all of my food or how he never calls. There is a grieving hole already in my heart and I don’t want to fall into it. I don’t know how to process sometimes- I pray about it but have no clarification. I feel so alone sometimes, people don’t understand. I don’t expect them to really, but it’d be nice to fit some where occasionally. I don’t fit with the special needs parents because so many of them have terminal children and they look at me with dead eyes and imagine a life with their precious child while I lament it. I lament not his physical presence with me, but the lack of what is NORMAL. I want him to have it all- a car, a girlfriend, college, a job and a wife. The doctor said none of that will ever happen but “he won’t really know he’s missing out.” If you knew Bear you’d know that isn’t true. He’s bright and amazing and you know what is most painful of all? His success and brilliance have caused me to HOPE and I can’t stand that. I can accept the reality, the bitter pain and grieve it, but this HOPE makes me stumble. and that’s where the lion waits, in that little area, and with a lunge I’m on the ground, wanting to feel dead inside because I can’t stand all the pain.
I decided to keep Bear home from school next year. Before you criticize me and tell me how wrong I am, know that I never took this decision lightly. I’ve agonized over it. I just can’t send him to school as a just turned 5 year old, and pretty delayed at that. What made my decision was the knowledge that I am not planing on sending Bug to school that early and he’d probably do fine. I’ve questioned and re-questioned my motives and thoughts and there is a part of me that thinks that if he has a 1 year advantage to get him just barely caught up to his peers he’d have a chance at fitting in. Again, that painful hope. I hope he’ll fit in. I hope that he’ll have friends. AND IT HURTS ME SO MUCH.
There are no answers for me. Someone may pat my shoulder from time to time but my path is a lonely one. I have to be strong and not think about tomorrow for now because today is too beautiful to miss. I look at his blonde curls, his smiling crescent shaped eyes and can’t help but feel a sleepy calmness envelope me like a warm cocoon. This is the happy part of my life, I’ll deal with the pain of tomorrow later.