« Hope in Small Doses | Main | Not less than, just different. »

04/08/2015

Comments

Feed You can follow this conversation by subscribing to the comment feed for this post.

I think realizing we have no control over most things is something we all have to grapple with now and then, however it must be really hard to be confronted with this level of uncertainty all the time. I can feel it in your writing. Hang in there. I can't imagine you've missed any opportunities to give Elias the best possible chance, but I'm sure it's impossible to not let your brain go there. xxo

Thanks Joanna, I try to keep my brain from going down that path of "what ifs" but I am an over-thinker so i tend to travel there. And yes, we all live amidst uncertainty, someday it just feels harder than others to claim my lack of control as home:) Thank you for reading and taking the time to write.

I love how you can acknowledge your life. You're not afraid to admit it's just hard sometimes, lots of times. You're not afraid to say you're afraid or I don't fucking know. You're not afraid to say yes others have it hard, but I have it hard or harder. And you are not afraid to acknowledge how much you love your children, unconditionally. You're such a mom. Hugs.

So love reading your "words" and I so feel for you in your frustration. I am now caring for 3 children and the youngest is 6-almost 7 and he still wears pull ups to bed at night and has had many almost and accidents during the day- just can't stop and feel until it is almost too late- I am getting better about checking constantly. But it is a puzzlement. I just feel for you and Nick so much. You two are super heroes!!!!

I think Shakespeare tried tackling this one. Ah, the burden of an overthinker. You're in the company of geniuses, if that's any consolation. I read the account of a man who had a near-death trip to the afterlife, and he encountered some sort of consciousness that acknowledged that folks on Earth have it tough. I can't forget that perspective, for what it's worth.

I have these thoughts often too. Will he outgrow his nitetime diapers? Will he ever remember to take his meds on his own? Will he stop putting his underwear and shirts on backwards? Etc, etc. It's questions many of us live with. But bringing it out in the open makes us realize we are not alone.

I don't know either so I won't pretend to have any answers. All I can do is sit with you in this space. Something that has helped me when coping with these uncertainties which for me show up as worry or anxiety is the work of Pema Chodrun. Right now I am listening to Walking the Walk and it and all her work has helped me learn to sit with uncomfortable feelings better. I am not yet meditating but maybe your writing or sports serve that purpose for you. Anyway from here I think you do an amazing job in all your roles as mother daughter counselor friend wife etc. hugs.

As i mentioned before, my incontience came back and I have to wear diapers too.. and I'm 32 years old. He may never outgrow it, but that DOES NOT mean he has to be ashamed of it. I realize its not the best of situations to be dealing with, but given the right attitude, its livable. I

You are, and have long been, doing more than "enough" to make the world a better place, for Elias, the kids at your school, and for us all. Your persistence, bravery, honesty, empathy and action in all things inspires and awes me. Doubt is natural, and human; we all have it. Even though there's no road map, your direction is sound, and no knows your path better than you. I'm enjoying imagining you taking note of the doubt and then gently redirecting that energy toward the hills and valleys on the path of your day's journey. Knowing you're doing your very best, and that is all you've got. Or, as Fiona Apple said "If there was a better way to go then it would find me" - you are an extraordinary machine.

This is why I blog still to hear back from readers like all of you, you lift me up and help me feel connected to a world beyond my own.

The comments to this entry are closed.

Become a Fan