Where would I be?
Sometimes I forget that not all special needs parents use the internet in the same way we do. I forget that they haven’t embraced social media or other forms of online networking. And once in a while, I’ll make a comment or mention a book or suggest a website only to be met with a blank stare.
Such was the case this morning when I found myself deep in conversation with another mom—a conversation that took place on the sidewalk just outside the schoolyard gate and lasted for well over an hour. A conversation that was, perhaps, long overdue or at the very least meant to be.
Our boys have much in common. They share a classroom and an aide. And a diagnosis.
We talked about how hard it can be, how worrisome—for us, for our boys—but also how blessed we are. How raising these boys has made us better, enriched our lives, taught us so much.
This mom is really involved. In SEPTA, in the PTA. She volunteers and organizes events and does all the things I don’t. And because I tend to be home, tapping away at the keyboard, remembering only once in a blue moon to attend a PTA meeting, our paths don’t often cross. But today, I was leaving the schoolyard as she dropped off her son. I smiled. She rolled down her window.
I told her things I know. I told her about Jess and the fabulous work she’s doing with her local PTA. I talked about Shannon and the Can I Sit With You project. I mentioned books and writers and essays, and I practically begged her to see the possibilities through her worry and concern—a world where our kids are safe and cared for and understood.
An hour later the custodian interrupted us to ask her to move her car.
I came home and ordered three books: A Slant of Sun, by Beth Kephart; Love You to Pieces, edited by Suzanne Kamata; and My Baby Rides the Short Bus. Is it crazy to give her all three?
I feel so lucky, so embraced by this unbelievable network of parents and writers. Today I am inspired to share that, to pay it forward, to bring another mom into the fold—as far as she may be willing to come. I want to share what sustains me, keeps me moving, enables me to put one foot in front of the other even when the days are long and trying. Even when the days are impossible.
I want to share what gives me hope. Because without this, without all of you, without the words we gift to each other, I don’t know where I would be. Your collective wisdom and insight and compassion, your laughter and love, your writing—without it, I simply wouldn’t be the mom I believe I am meant to be.
Beautiful. And for all the ills (supposed or real) that the internet has wrought, I am amazed and so so so grateful at the friendships I’ve been blessed with, friends I never could have met without blogs and e-mail and the internet.
I hear you loud and clear on this Kristen.
I was just telling someone the other day that I couldn’t imagine my life if I hadn’t discovered this blogging community. I was struggling with my child being different, consumed with worry, and upon reading story after story, from parent after parent, I realized this was not the end of the world as I thought I knew it. I learned to embrace and celebrate that my child does things differently.
I’m glad you shared the book(s) with the other Mom. Hopefully she finds some meaning in them for her.
I logged onto Parenting-Autism (a Yahoo group, not sure if it is still around) within what seemed like hours of Boo’s diagnosis, and truly, I would not know as much as I do without those parents there. That group sustained me during some very difficult times, and in a similar way, so has this blogging community and this network of writers.
I cannot imagine my life without it. Or any of you.
What a wonderful post! I think that a lot of parents isolate themselves (especially in the rural area that I live) and don’t reach out to connect. How sad! It is hard to reach out and share your pain, but there’s a flip side to that…sharing your joys and hopes!
Amen, my friend. I’d be adrift alone at sea without you all.
This is so true. And wonderful.
You know, the web is neck deep in *information* about autism. But it was the narrative that saved me. I don’t remember anymore how I stumbled on my first blog (Kristina Chew’s old MSHA blog) but being such a ludite I’m convinced that it was y bsome grace that did. There are probably plenty of moms that just don’t know where to look. I say, give her all three books and a list of urls!!
You are an awesome friend and she is so lucky to know you. I don’t know what I’d do without this community either.
I think most of us could sign our names to this post. Thank you for expressing so beautifully what I feel. I look forward to a long relationship with you and the other folks that sustain me in this virtual world.
Yes, exactly! “What gives me hope,” what keeps me moving forward, what gives me warm fuzzies, and hot tears. What is like one giant group hug … that’s why I keep reading you, Kristen.
I never would have made it this far without the blogs. The blogs – the moms – the people who just get it. This keeps me alive. That and late night (you know, like 8 – 9 pm) talks (and laughs and pix!) about sexy nightclothes.
love.
when I found blogging moms such as you, that’s when the horrible gut wrenching sorrow and loneliness started to recede. People who walk a similar path to mine, who struggle but who also hold out so much hope and belief that our kids will be ok. Hugs
Wow. You guys are amazing. But I knew that. Sometimes, I honestly feel like we could change the world.
This is so exactly how I feel. I feel incredibly lucky to have found this place, this community, this support. I have also tried to tell other special needs parents about the power of online support only to have them look at me like I’m insane. But it makes the world of difference.