Yesterday, was an extremely stressful day for me. It started off with promise and joy. I never like spending large sums of money, but that is part of life, and I was excited and just a touch sad dealing with all my youngest child’s senior graduation stuff. This is the Autistic child who was never supposed to go to “regular” school — is graduating from High School and going to college — just like the “Regular” boy he wanted to be when he was just six and learning to speak. Such a journey to arrive here … so happy … so sad … so LOVELY. I took the grand-girlie with me to handle Collin’s big deals. She is so cute and fun. Yesterday, she wanted to dart away from me in parking lots. TERRORIZING!
As the day drew on I felt smashed, tumbled, and sped along as if in a river during torrential rains … I felt utterly powerless to affect my situation … completely out of control. Tossed about and coming perilously close to death on the whims of waves. The first time she escaped from me she came when I called. The second time I had to chase her in the rain and I wasn’t worried until I tripped and fell. I started to cry. I had been here before, was I re-living a night mare? I never expected to be here again. When Collin was her age he would dart into traffic, behind cars in parking lots, and just run down streets terrifying us all. I was taken back to a time when I weighed 275-ish pounds and my body was not capable of running. I had to stand and watch and scream as he barely missed being run over by a car. Life can be interesting sometimes … Collin didn’t get run over by a car, but … his older brother did (Collin’s older brother was run into by a car trying to save Collin from being injured).
Life was hard for a large number of years after the accident. Will was lost to us for so long that our hearts had almost given up hope for his return. As you can imagine I don’t do well with cars coming close to hitting people. Or with cars and drivers who speed through parking lots ON THEIR CELL PHONES as though they have no brains. I become quite vocal — rudely vocal — vulgarly vocal. Tuesday of this week, my youngest daughter was on the way to see our third grand baby’s ultra sound, when a woman on her cell phone almost ran her down in the crosswalk–while I was watching. I had gone to the window to guide her where to go. When she was almost hit, I screamed “ASSHOLE” in a crowded waiting area of the hospital ultrasound area. Everyone heard me … I was so horrified I couldn’t even remember what I shouted until Will, the one who was run over before, told me what I had shouted. I have had enough of cars and injuries. I feel as though I am a part of a suspense thriller movie where the hero cannot escape constant loss.
I realize this is not true. I was blessed no one was hurt. Still, I was thrown horribly back into a state of mind … a state of helplessness. This is something I truly despise. I HATE feeling powerless. It is rare that I feel this way, but here I was back to my blackest moments as a mother, and powerless to do anything to stop it. Sophia had gotten away from me and I could do nothing to stop her. I tripped and sprained my ankle, if she tried to get away again I would not be able to catch her. Thankfully she came to my aid when I started crying and was hurt. My tears were from fear. Fear that she would get hurt while with me … I just don’t know if I could bear such a pain. It was so hard the first time.
The first time … life held little meaning. Everything was grey without definition. Horror flowed to horror. Pain to pain. Despair was my constant friend, he often brought along his brother, Heartache, who wrenched my heart until I felt I could bear no more … yet I did. Breathing during that time was a chore. The very air felt weighted and suffocating. Heartbreak on every side. We suffered so much loss during the span of five years from the accident, and still, we experienced so much gain (Collin had a language explosion). It was a hard time to be alive. We had to choose to live. We had to choose to stand. We had to choose to see beauty. We had to choose joy. God help me and have mercy on me … I just do not want to go through that again. I know I could make it, but haven’t I seen enough pain for one lifetime? Haven’t I endured enough agony to fill my card plus a touch extra? I think I have.
As you might imagine yesterday there was a mammoth struggle to regain my balance after the Sophie girl incident. My family is my life and what I live for. Family (Parents, Hubby, Children and Grand Children) are why I press. Family gives everything beautiful meaning. I know it is why my Mikey presses himself so hard. We love the fam. They are how I stood when all I wanted to do was die. They have been my sole reason for never giving up — loving them. We live for each other. Watching your family suffer is incredibly difficult–probably an extreme understatement. Some suffering is part of life, and you expect to experience it, as in your grandparents passing away, then your parents, you know it will be horrible, but you expect it. Watching your children be harmed is horrible and the grand children — well that is barely thinkable.
So Tuesday and yesterday shot me back to terror, pain, and extreme agony …
It was hard to recover. I almost didn’t fall asleep. Mike had to pray with me until my heart found rest. I do have reasons to rejoice. No one was hurt on either occasion, but still, it was just too close for comfort. I guess I just have to give myself a few days to recover from the shock of this week.