I was alone most of the day yesterday. While that might sound like a dream come true when you lead a rather exhausting life that comes along with being a special needs parent, I assure you it's not. Being alone with your thoughts isn't always wonderful. It gives me extra time to think about the things far beyond my control, it gives me more minutes to marinate in sad and difficult feelings, and it seems to solidify the knowledge that I'm truly alone in all this. God has been exceptionally quiet in all this for sometime now. As I continue to pray for answers on how to provide the very best life possible for the miracle he entrusted me with. Yet, He continues to ask of me that I show up each day regardless of the hurdles, road blocks and difficulties that continually lay ahead. And I do because I have faith, hope and understanding that everything is in His time, not mine. Yet, none of that changes the struggles that are before me in order to help Noah.
As I was driving to my first errand of the day to purchase more
frozen cheesecake for Noah, which has become his evening staple after
every dinner, I seen people alongside the road holding various signs.
Some over the recent racial tensions over the Confederate Flag, some
over our various political issues, and some
condemning terrorist attacks. All of course receiving more response
from passerbys and honks from cars than the man on the street with his
sign and pleas for help in order to feed his family. The world is so
distracted that it fails to notice the smallest of struggles. We can't
see what is directly in front of us.
It's much like that for the special needs community too. Our
challenges and struggles are easy to forget, our voices get lost in all
the outside noise. We're out of sight out of mind.
I get to the parking lot of Sam's Club to buy Noah's cheesecake as I
watch people fight over parking spaces. All the while my soul wishes to
scream to both parties that they should be so thankful that they were
gifted with the blessing of the ability to walk no matter if it were two
parking spaces distances longer to the door. A physical ability my
Noah will never be able to do. Another woman in a hurry pushed me and
my cart aside in her hustle, never looking back to see if I was okay or
to say sorry that she bumped into me so aggressively. I stayed quiet
nursing my leg that was bruised in the incident, although my feelings
were likely bruised more because I had hoped for that "so sorry, I
didn't mean to," which would have made all the difference. But instead
it rather added to the theme of the day that I was feeling rather run
over by the world - I now simply have a bruise to prove it, I suppose.
I got Noah his three cheesecakes and two packages of paper towel
since Noah's sensory issues have been on overload and I'm going through
paper towel these days like water trying to mop up his gagging and vomit
episodes at home. I can't even change his diaper these days without
him gagging over the smell no matter how fast I do it, he always throws
up on me. If he even feels or hears the plastic ruffling of a chux that
will even cause it. I paid and left, I sat in my car briefly just
watching people. Everyone in a such hurry. Like little ants on a
mission but do they even know what that mission is?
I stopped by Natural Grocers on the way home. I have made a habit
now taking only one reusable bag into the store and filling it instead
of a grocery cart. I've convinced myself that whatever I can fit into
one bag I can afford, no matter how heavy that bag gets or how much I
try to stuff in it, that seems to be my goal. I picked up odds and ends. I
was rather directionless and without a clear mental note of the things I
would need to get through the week. Yet I filled that bag with things I
anticipated we would need; Greek Yogurt to make Sunday morning pancakes
fluffy, bread so I could make grilled cheese, bacon, eggs, and cheese.
I couldn't resist the urge to go next door to Two Rivers coffee shop.
While the idea of coffee sounded good, what I really wanted was to see
the heart that they do on top out of the creamer so that I could
remember I was in some way loved. Even if, just by a cup of coffee. I
stared at that perfectly decorated and heart adorned coffee for a few
minutes before I was willing to put a lid on it and drink it. I just
kind of looked at it in awe. It was heavenly and my only regret is I
didn't get two because well, you can neither have enough love or enough
My last stop was to Kohl's to find my mother a birthday gift with the
Kohl's cash I had been staving. I'm not even sure how I got there
other than the car was on auto pilot. My mind heavy with the things I
still need to accomplish; filling out SSI forms, dealing with denials,
calling for a quote on something needs, reaching out to equipment
vendors, trying not to be disappointed that Noah's fundraiser is going
nowhere, the laundry, fixing dinner, washing Noah's food soaked chair,
bathing two kids, cleaning up the kitchen, wiping down Noah's mats....
There is no shut off button for my mind. It races as if it's trying
to constantly troubleshoot. And in the middle of it all I of course
stop to pause and say where are you God? You're still so quiet. Why
are you being so quiet?
I was really lucky and found something right away that I think my
mother will adore. I'd tell you what it is but she'll likely read this
blog (as she faithfully does), and that would give away the surprise. I
felt like I found a really great gift. I was walking to the car
feeling really like a non-event - insignificant, dull and without any
real importance except to my children. And then I looked up and seen
this note attached to Noah's magnet on the side of the car. And it
"You're Right! Amen. May God be with you always!"
Noah's Miracle by Stacy Warden is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.