gratitude, shmatitude
When bad things happen, people always tell you to be grateful for what you do have. When Ian got hurt-”Be grateful you stll have him”. When Ian died-”be grateful you have 2 other healthy children”. Fuck that, that is some silver-lining bullshit that I am just not capable of. I am happy for Ian that he is enjoying a blissful existence now, but am I grateful for it? Nope-I’m mad he’s not here. When his accident happened was I grateful I still had him? Nope-I was pissed that my beautiful boy was taken from me, and I had a different kid. Maybe I’m in the minority, but being grateful for things just reminds me of what I don’t have. Everything is tainted. I should be grateful that my daughter is turning into a wonderful young woman, but all I can think about is the possibility that she will be taken from me before she even graduates high school, and a reminder that Ian won’t graduate high school. I should be grateful that my baby can swim alraeady, but all I can think about it is that it’s because my other son drowned. Here’s the thing about being grateful-it reminds me of my anger. Right now, I’m mad that my son became disabled-that wasn’t fair! When your children are in constant pain, how can I be grateful that I still have him. When your son dies, how can you be grateful for your other children-all you can think about is when they are going to die too.
We all live in our own realities and are only capable of processing what has happened to us in our reality. I have never lived in a war torn country where I was scared of getting blown up, so maybe people would be capable of being grateful for my life. Or maybe they’re grateful that they still have their children and would feel sorry for me. I’m honestly unsure of how people can be grateful when their life sucks. Know what else I am? Jealous. I’m jealous of you. I’m super jealous of the shitty parents that get to have their kids. Like seriously, you don’t take care of them, and I have to work overtime as a special needs mom, and mine gets taken. Garbage.
I was never grateful for being a special needs parent. It was hard ALL THE TIME. My son was in pain, couldn’t make friends, couldn’t run outside-it was heartbreaking… how could I be grateful for that? My life was dominated by hospital stays, my other children got ignored, I was less effective at work, my marriage was based on creating a good life for my son-not passion. Now that sounds terrible, but I did learn something. I learned a love that I didn’t know was possible. When you have to say goodbye to your son (probably forever) while they load him into a helicopter to transfer him to a better hospital, there’s a surge in your heart and soul that explodes with the connection and love you have for your child. It takes a lot of work to be a special needs parent, and that’s fueled by the strongest love on earth.To know this love is also to feel the immense pain of losing that child-a child that was loved so purely, with no expectations. A child that brought to light what true love really is.