As a mama of a special needs warrior, I’ve talked about grief many times. I read a quote the other day and it stuck with me–not because it’s applicable to us, but because the opposite is…..
Grief is intense homesickness, without ever being able to go home.
For us, grief is an intense homesickness for a place I’ve never been.
It’s peering in the windows of a place and wishing I could take a step into it.
It’s reading all the books about this amazing place and know I will never get to go there.
It’s hearing all of our friends and family talk about it and know that we won’t get to have those same stories to share.
It’s seeing this place portrayed on TV, movies, and in the pages of magazines and knowing that our life does not look anything like that.
It’s watching our little girl try her hardest to navigate that world knowing that she doesn’t have equal footing.
It’s living vicariously through others and having to balance being equally happy for them and acknowledge our loss.
It’s knowing that my heart is struggling with where to call home, because all it wants is to be able to rest comfortably where I lay my head.
It’s being homesick for the carefree, spontaneous, and adventurous person I used to be before I stepped into the role of a special needs mom.
It’s having a map to this beautiful place and then life sidelining us. Placing us on a completely different path with no guide, no map, and no warning.
It’s knowing that grief and joy can live in the same house. Sharing space comfortably.
It’s loving both places. Missing both places. Cherishing and appreciating both places. Committing to one but longing for the other.
It’s truly never feeling like you belong in either place.