You have to grieve – I already have – for years, alone
While others just told me pleasantries and how they’ll pray for me,
I know there will be no wedding dances with my sons,
I know there won’t be any grandkids
But you, you don’t.
You still envision driving,
You still envision college,
You still envision careers.
You still envision words.
Words that have meaning, and that aren’t just parts of songs.
Being hopeful is one thing,
Being unrealistic is not.
Because the college fund is now a special needs trust,
And my career is over,
And my home is destroyed every single day,
And this isn’t the life I envisioned, but it’s the one I live every day.
And no matter the amount of therapy, there are no guarantees.
And all I want is for my children to be happy, even if it’s at home with me until I die.
And all I think about is who will take care of them when I’m gone, and if they’ll be taken advantage of or treated badly wherever they are.
It’s not doom and gloom because I am the proudest mom for the tiniest accomplishments,
Because I know how hard they had to work for them.
While others look at them and think they’re nothing,
They aren’t enough,
They aren’t words.
Because they didn’t grieve.
Every look in the eye gives me butterflies,
Every point excites me,
Every time a computerized voice talks to me, I understand that it’s him and how he will be able to tell me anything right now.
Every interaction with other children makes my heart skip a beat,
Every good report from school makes me so proud,
And that’s what you’re missing out on when you don’t grieve.
You can’t appreciate the littlest things when you’re still expecting the biggest.
And that eventual failure will only set you up for future disappointment.
And they don’t want you to be disappointed in them when they’re trying so hard just to live.
To live in a world not made for them.
A world too loud, and too bright, and too colorful.
They don’t need that added pressure.
Because I assure you, no matter how hard you think it is for you,
It’s so much harder for them.
