i’ve started to believe a lie.
the one that says my daughter is unreachable. that would be the one.
that she is happy, content, with her routines and habits and phrases. that’s enough. it’s good enough.
that classroom there. the one showing movies everyday. the one where the center tables sit empty and kids sit still for too long. that should be okay. that’ll be fine.
for my daughter.
it seems to me that she’s waiting.
that mazzy waits for someone brilliant enough to come along and speak her language. and this world’s response, my response, is to dumb life down for her. and the great gulf of her humility takes it and it falls into the cavern of her heart.
it could be enough.
if it were not for that echo i hear when it hits the bottom.
when the poor substitute for life i’ve given my own child does nothing to fill the void in her.
when i hear it clang empty back behind me while I walk away. i can’t do it. i can’t just act like that’s okay.
call it denial. call me a dreamer. call me a glutton for punishment.
having a child with a disability is a huge responsibility. i know, all parenting is – but take it from me. i’ve got typical kids and a not so typical one and it’s different folks.
and i know that i know that i am not qualified. ill prepared. doomed from the start.
but i land here. knowing with peace that passes understanding that i may be the best chance she’s got. i don’t say that with pride. i say it while banging my head against a wall. i say it like one being taken where they’d rather not go.
i’ve got 99 problems people and they mainly have to do with the educational system that offers special services to those with disabilities.
for years we’ve advocated. we’ve fought the good fight. then fed up with that role, we’ve home schooled. then we move to detroit – where the educational options flow like milk and honey and i’ve been driving her to the suburbs everyday.
and if it’s not worth it?
if the teachers and aides speak in a condescending tone to their cognitively impaired kids while curious george plays on the smart board.
what do you do when you run out of options?
if good people don’t do the things they know they should, then evil people will come along and do it for them.
so here’s to homeschooling again or another school or fighting to change what’s been going on for 20 years in her current program.
it’s hard every time. it’s never easy to come to the end of yourself. lord, you’ve given us more than we can handle so that we’ll look to the skies and ask, so that we’ll beg, for help.
and we stand with the rest of creation with our mouths wide open, waiting for what comes from your hand.