To Love Myself: Living in the Moment

I sat in church, loving the quietness of it all, the feeling of being present and awake. I loved the sermon, a simple topic revisited with a life alternating perspective. The sun was shining in and it was peaceful.

We were late to church, and sat on the back row. As I sunk into a without kids relaxation my eyes started to wander around… and then I saw him.

He was probably a few years older than I was and had dark hair that was slightly thinning in the back. He wore a dark colored shirt, elastic-waisted jeans and velcro white shoes which his constantly moving feet kept slipping out of. In fact, that was what first drew my attention, his constant head and feet movement were in stark contrast to the stillness in the room. He was smiling without restraint and kept touching a woman’s arm next to him I could only assume was his mother from her unending patience and kindness to him.

He loved the praise music and extended his arms in a pure form of expression.

He noticed a little baby and nearly fell out of his chair in excitement, trying to get his mother to look too. She patted his hand and tried to calm him down.

He laughed loudly and with his whole body when the pastor told a joke.

The little baby smiled at him the whole time, sensing something was different about him.

There was a purity, a sweet child-likeness in the man and yet it was all wrong. The subconscious discomfort of people near by was nearly a cloud. The quick, furtive glances, the attempt to be non-nonchalant and politically correct.  I felt it too, a creeping in feeling that I wanted to archly dismiss because I shouldn’t feel that way.

This isn’t about what is right or wrong, it just IS.

Suddenly, he turned and looked right at me. Then I wondered if he could even see me, his eyes were crossed and unfocused behind his thick glasses, but he was smiling hugely and waved at me.  I waved back and his face crinkled into an even bigger smile and he nearly came out of his chair in excitement as he turned to tell his mom all about it. I didn’t look at Ben. I couldn’t.

I couldn’t think about anything because my mind was so full of thoughts and instead focused on methodically taking notes over the thickness in my throat.

I’m not special or great, I can only live in the moment. Today is manageable.

*****

I was going to close with that originally- but I wanted to add that people all the time look at me and say, “I just couldn’t handle it if I had a special needs child” and they honestly don’t get that I can’t either. I feel the future embarrassment and feel full of shame at that truth. I can handle today, Bear is sweet and draws in people to community with his bright smile and love. It’s when that isn’t ok- when he starts to creep people out because of his age and size. When his pure spirit stands in stark contrast to the world’s ugliness and our thick defensive coats we wear to shield ourselves.

I can’t stand, I can’t stand it.

Can I lie here in Your arms Can I lie here in Your arms My only calm is You Save me
Can I lie here in Your arms Can I lie here in Your arms My only thought is You Save me
Can I lie here in Your arms Can I lie here in Your arms My happiness is You Save me
Oh how lovely this place To be with You To be with You
Oh the brightness of Your face Here with You Here with You
Oh my only calm is You Oh my only thought is You Oh my happiness is You Oh my happiness is You
To be with You To be with You Save me

  • sassafraz70

    Oh, Heidi, I know those feelings that all come at the same time in a situation like that. I feel horror, joy, guilt, shame, happiness, and fear all at once when I spot someone like my boy, all grown up. I am not usually brave enough to dissect my feelings and search for the source of them. It’s nice to know, though, that they are normal feelings in moms like me. As Erik grows older and people notice my son is different, I care less. That is sweet relief. I’ll be honest — At the beginning, I wasn’t sure I could bear it. — Nancy (Erik’s Mom)

  • http://twitter.com/emilypilotswife Emily Carter

    This is beautiful Heidi. I’m going to miss you this week.

  • Jyoung

    As the father of a 22 year old special needs man, I see those looks. Believe it or not, I understand. I was like that 23 years ago. Twenty-two years ago I didn’t think God knew what He was doing when he gave me a special needs child. But He knew that I needed my son more than he needed me. People ask all the time “How do you do it?” You just do. He’s my kid. I’m Dad.

  • http://TheBusyNothings.com Heidi

    thanks so much for taking the time to comment! I think that you are so right- I’ll be more used to it but yeah, right now it’s hard to imagine.

  • http://TheBusyNothings.com Heidi

    thanks- I’m going to miss you too! :( (for real!!!)

  • Megan Daniel

    I feel this. A. Lot. Ella is cute & small now. People don’t seem to notice very often that she doesn’t really talk or answer their questions. How will it be when she’s older? I don’t know for sure but I think about it often.

    I love this. “When his pure spirit stands in stark contrast to the world’s ugliness and our thick defensive coats we wear to shield ourselves.”

    Ella’s unadulterated responses and reactions to the world around her give my heart great joy. It helps ground me and rubs off some of the callouses that living in this world can give a person.

  • Sara @ it’s good to be queen

    Wow that is beautiful, Heidi.

  • Chandra

    Beautifully said!