At Avery’s ARD meeting. I tried really hard not to, I even left to compose myself. But I couldn’t stop it. My heart hurt.
We were talking about Avery working and whether or not he was competitively employable. We were talking about him not being able to do his dream job at Brookshire’s right now. And I have to ask myself if I have to come to terms with a different future than we’d hoped for him.
I know there is still time and so much can happen. I also know that it wasn’t long ago that we worried if he was going to live. So I know all that and I hold on to it but yet I still cry.
If you don’t have a child with a disability, you might think you can understand. You might think, it’s ok as long as he is happy. But close your eyes for a second. Ok close them after you read this. But imagine your child and all the hopes and dreams you had for them when they were born. Did any of them involve them sitting in a room folding paper when they grew up? That the most people wanted to offer was a sheltered workshop?
It hurts my heart to think of it. But then I think of him, I think of Avery. And I know, I know I want him to be happy. I don’t want him stressed out and unhappy. So I know that however that future unfolds, I will find joy in that. I find joy in Avery and I will not cry for what he can’t have.
But for some reason I just can’t stop crying right now. I want to yell out to the world that it’s just so not fair to him and to me. And yet I know how lucky and blessed we are and how blessed he is. And I don’t want to know how much worse it could be.
One reason I feel so bad crying in the ARD meeting, the main reason, is that I don’t want Avery to feel bad. I don’t want him to think I’m crying because of him. I don’t want him to ever think he is a disappointment or to feel bad. I want him to know that I want the world for him and know that I know how amazing he is.
So I dry my tears and will find a way to make my peace with whatever the future holds. As we all do, with any child we have.