"We spent a glorious day on the beach."
"He made the team."
"She has a game published in the game store and she's only 13."
"Thank you to everyone for making our day so special."
"I'm going to be a Granny."
"Just booked two weeks in Disney World."
"She got 9 straight 'A's."
We're absolutely delighted for our friends, really truly we are, but sometimes a little piece of us dies inside.
You can't tell by looking. Often it's the funniest, smiliest, warmest people who are hurting the most.
Sometimes special needs parents need to stay in, need to stay off social media, need to feel sorry for themselves or comfort each other.
The knowledge that much of this is caused by poor state services and supports, makes it all the harder to bear. And so we refocus our sadness. We fight, and we fight, and we just keep hoping that it will be enough. We fight for the rights of our children, we fight for their acceptance, and for the help that they need. We fight and we hope, and then we fight some more. Because what else can we do?
Many of us have memories of what family life was like before special needs took over, before it seeped into every crack and crevice of our lives. We try not to remember, we hide away the photos. We do try and embrace our new lives and focus on the positives. But sometimes it's hard. Sometimes we do end up crying inside.
This post is dedicated to a very good friend.