If you know me, you know I like to keep moving. Look forward at the next step, move toward it, stay in motion. This quality has done me wonders after having a special needs child, it has become my safety and my coping mechanism. Even with a child whose diagnosis has no treatments or cures, I can move forward by creating Harry’s Heroes and fundraising to support research for muscle disease. Standing still is the enemy. A pause offers too much perspective, too good a look around.
The problem with this mechanism is two fold: first, the nature of having children is fast-paced. We all know, they grow up too fast! If I perpetually move, I miss too much. I have to remind myself to stop and enjoy the moment rather than always looking ahead. The second problem is the great force that builds behind that dam. I am not a cry at every small thing kind of girl, I am a “bottle it all up until it explodes” lady. If I don’t look too hard at Harry’s inabilities or struggles, I can focus on solutions and physical therapy and drive toward better. It also doesn’t hurt as much if we keep on moving.
Then, I stand still and look, really look at where we are at. I look at my sweet little boy and assess what is going on right now, and sometimes it breaks my heart. The dam breaks and my tears flow, for his loss and inability and struggle. It often breaks me, it hurts and I struggle to get my head above water.
Sometimes a good cry is really all we need. We purge those pent up feelings, and start with a clean slate. There will never be a time that part of me isn’t sad because of muscle disease, but a lot of times that part is very, very small. That sadness also motivates me and drives the happiness. I do have to learn to vent the build up a bit before it explodes, but I do learn slowly but surely. On the other side of explosive sadness is usually massive happiness, because after the tears I gain a fresh perspective, and I feel cleansed. It’s all part of the process, my friends. Onward and upward, sometimes slow and sometimes fast.