Some Days are a Smudge

I had a conversation with the residential director in Jack’s area yesterday. It was 8 and a half minutes that soothed my worries. She told me stories of Jack’s day, involving car rides and vacuums and being content. This is what I needed to hear. Jack is doing Jack things. He is being himself, and they are being good to him. Everything is proceeding and is okay.

This afternoon I saw a few of my special needs mom friends over lunch, and it was the social equivalent of a cold soda and a swimming pool on a hot day. With brownies, and a comfortable chair in the shade. I am replenished.

Some days are sad, and I drive to Sodalicious for a big cookie.

Some days are calm, gentle, happy. I see all the ways my family is able to flourish within this new dynamic. I can see how we couldn’t function anymore, as things were. I feel the rightness of it.

Some days are a smudge of both sad and happy.

Such is life, as it involves people and problems and differences and (sometimes) overcoming.

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