I'm sure I should feel quite blessed that in thirty-one years of parenting (yes, Aubrey, I know that you're not 31 yet, but we're under a month (-: ), John and I have been spared the agony of seeing one of our children go through a long, chronic illness with no clear answers or prognosis. And though gratitude is one of the hallmarks of my life, perhaps you'll forgive me if that part of me isn't at the forefront this month. Ironic that in this week of Thanksgiving, I am having such a hard time giving thanks. . .
To those of you have spent weeks, months, maybe years waiting for answers, digging for clues, watching your precious child suffer. . .I'm coming to understand your agony. No, as far as we know this is not a life-and-death struggle. But it's a life-and-life struggle, a battle for a return of the hopes and dreams of an 18 year old young woman who had just taken the first steps of independence and has been stopped cold because of near-paralyzing pain. For a mother and father, it brings an agonizing pain all its own. But instead of being paralyzing, it tends to become mobilizing, creating an obsession with getting help and finding answers. Not that it doesn't create moments of paralysis. There are times when I feel like we're all walking through molasses and that I can't take another step. But step we do, one foot in front of the other, knowing that we won't, we can't stop as long as there's a single stone left unturned.
Why I write this here I don't know. My desire is for this "House" to be a place to come and receive encouragement, and tonight I don't have much to say that sounds encouraging. But just in case you're in a similar place, maybe just knowing you're not alone will give you a measure of comfort. If you're a much "newer" parent than I am, maybe it will help to know that I'm not any "better" at this than you are. . .that all the experience and all the years don't matter a bit when your child needs help you can't provide. You and I rely on the same Father, the same Great Physician, the same Comforter for every step, for every breath, no matter how far down the mothering road we've come.
And just writing that has made me feel better. As has looking at the above picture of CJ's smiling face in better days. . .