There she goes. Just as captured in this picture last night. Grace's speed tends to be break neck and then at other times draggin'-her-feet-slow. Last night, as you see, was the former. That is, last night–the end of the first day of her 19th year.
And this summer? She's got me running. Again.
Psssst! Many successful bloggers have a little secret: They write their posts in advance versus the night before or the morning of…point-click-hit-send. (Not that I consider myself a successful blogger.) But, I did and do prefer to blog in advance as much as possible. So that times like this–I can deliver regular content. Yet, Spring left that plan in the dust with break-neck speaking, traveling, art shows. I'll catch up at the end of the month.
Bear with me. (Yeah, I know you're just dying out there waiting for me to write to you. LOL.) I'll get back here with lots of thoughts about how our lives are evolving as she, year by year, ages out of services, and hence, my scarcity here and to do almost anything other than shuttle her from patch-worked services for two and three hours at a time, always across town from one program to the next.
Hint: I'm not handling it well right now. These past two weeks have been TOUGH. And, I'm trying to give myself some grace about that because I finally realized (duh) once again, it's a process. I'm twisting and turning right now in the I-do-not-like-this and I'm-mad-as-hell-about-it. Been there before. But it gets more real–that cliff, that black hole of diminishing services–each summer. So, I'm here again. And, that is just what the grief process is like sometimes. A roller coaster ride, going round and round and re-visiting the stages of grief in an unending cycle–life with disAbility. Sometimes, like right now, it's more intense. Other times, the processing is a piece of cake. Last night, Grace ate the cake. With ice cream and tried the eat the candle, too.
I'm hanging on. White knuckled. Teeth gritted. I'll get through it. I know I will. I know myself well. I'm a veteran griever. I'll get my zen back. It's like that silver band I've worn on my third left finger ever since I divorced last. (Wink.) I keep losing it and then I keep finding it….For now: gotta run….xoxo
This post is continued in a series: Checking In: Part II.
Our girl just turned 18 and I can so relate to this post. Thank you
LOVE this photo and your ability to share your vulnerability and truth with all things in life … a door to courage and freedom … as I am reading the book “Daring Greatly.” You are an amazing woman Leisa! Keep on keeping on.
Thank you for your kindness and affirming comments, Ginny. You are such a love. I am glad you are reading Brene Brown. I have met her and heard her speak and have mutual friends. She is amazing.
Lisa, I’ll be writing more and more about this. It’s tough. And I’m finding we are not alone. Of course. My next book will be dealing with this as well. Hugs.