Jul. 31st, 2014
Rite of Passage
I donโt often write about Emma or about being a โspecial
needsโ parent. Mainly because most of the time, I donโt think of myself that
way.
In that hour, I felt every second of the last 11ยฝ years of
special needs parenting.
The rising 3rd-5th grade kids in our
church left for camp today. Look Up Lodge is a rite of passage and my Facebook feed is full of pictures of happy
campers. Iโm excited for all of them. I truly am.
church left for camp today. Look Up Lodge is a rite of passage and my Facebook feed is full of pictures of happy
campers. Iโm excited for all of them. I truly am.
But a little part of me is crying.
The little part that every now and then rebels against the
reality that is my life. Because I didnโt take my rising 5th grader
to Look Up Lodge this morning.
reality that is my life. Because I didnโt take my rising 5th grader
to Look Up Lodge this morning.
I spent the morning researching GPS tracking devices for
her.
her.
I donโt often write about Emma or about being a โspecialneedsโ parent. Mainly because most of the time, I donโt think of myself that
way.
I donโt dwell on the allergy-free meals, the medications,
the pullups, the therapies, the doctor visits, the IEP meetings, the underlying
but ever-present frustration of having a child who cannot tell you about her
day, or the uncertainty of her future.
the pullups, the therapies, the doctor visits, the IEP meetings, the underlying
but ever-present frustration of having a child who cannot tell you about her
day, or the uncertainty of her future.
Just reading that list is depressing. If I thought about it
all the time, Iโd need to be sedated.
all the time, Iโd need to be sedated.
Instead, I think about the way she yells, โMommy!โ every
single time she sees me. The way she is fearless in her style. The way she
insists on an upside down piggy back ride up the stairs before she goes to bed.
The way she refuses to leave the house without a bow in her hair.
single time she sees me. The way she is fearless in her style. The way she
insists on an upside down piggy back ride up the stairs before she goes to bed.
The way she refuses to leave the house without a bow in her hair.
The way she
swings with abandon and spins with joy. The way sheโs obsessed with
toothbrushes and Goldilocks and sign language. The way she has wrapped pretty
much everyone who has ever come into contact with her around her little finger.
swings with abandon and spins with joy. The way sheโs obsessed with
toothbrushes and Goldilocks and sign language. The way she has wrapped pretty
much everyone who has ever come into contact with her around her little finger.
But last week, when she wandered from our yard and
disappeared for over an hourโฆwhen I had to explain to the police that they
could call for her but she might not answerโฆwhen I ran up and down the streets
and barged through my neighborsโ back yardsโฆwhen I watched the officer put her
pillowcase in a plastic bag so the bloodhound could get her scentโฆ
disappeared for over an hourโฆwhen I had to explain to the police that they
could call for her but she might not answerโฆwhen I ran up and down the streets
and barged through my neighborsโ back yardsโฆwhen I watched the officer put her
pillowcase in a plastic bag so the bloodhound could get her scentโฆ
In that hour, I felt every second of the last 11ยฝ years ofspecial needs parenting.
And all I wanted was the privilege of doing it for the rest
of my life.
of my life.
There are many more rites of passage to come. Some will
sting. Some will throb. Some will leave me sobbing in the shower.
sting. Some will throb. Some will leave me sobbing in the shower.
But then she will come down the stairs in her footed pajamas
and sheโll yell, โMommy!โ
and sheโll yell, โMommy!โ
And it will be okay.
*Emma was safe and sound the entire time. Sheโd wandered
into our neighborsโ home and was playing in their playroom. They were not at
home, but found her when they returned to a cul-de-sac full of police cars.
into our neighborsโ home and was playing in their playroom. They were not at
home, but found her when they returned to a cul-de-sac full of police cars.
We cannot ever fully express our gratitude to the family,
friends, neighbors, lawn care workers, mail carriers, and police officers who
joined in the search. We are so blessed.
friends, neighbors, lawn care workers, mail carriers, and police officers who
joined in the search. We are so blessed.
Comments
Join the Conversation
7 Comments
Lynn Huggins Blackburn Believes In The Power Of Stories, Especially Those That Remind Us That True Love Exists.
Archives
Recent Comments
Recent Posts
Now Available
I have no words to express the well of emotion you've touched-wonder-fear-frustration-joy–all inadequate . Beautiful post from the heart of love.
You handle all of this so well. God keeps you strong for a purpose.
love hearing your heart and soul in this post, its beautiful and your love and care for emma is amazing and constantly blesses me and encourages me. you are so right, she does wrap everyone around her finger and we adore her especially baby elsie ๐
Wow. You have such a great perspective on things in this life, Lynn. I admire you.
Oh my, I can't imagine the emotions and fears you went through. Praising God with you for His protection and the community of support He provided.
What a beautiful take on the most harrowing situation imaginable. I am so blessed to know you and Emma. (Loving the rest of your blog, too!)
Thanks to all of you for commenting. Our little escape artist had pulled off a few more attempts since this post and is now wearing a super-cool GPS tracking device. I'd love your prayers that she will tolerate wearing it!