In the first part of this post, I talked about World Mental Health Day and how the significance of that date was different for me this year, as my son…
October 10th. World Mental Health Day. Also the day before my son turns 13. When he wakes up tomorrow he will have made another trip around the sun while living…
In week 32 of our schools being physically closed, the “want” in our family to be back on campus has to be secondary to the critical “need” for in person instruction for a small group of students. We can’t always get what we want, but I am deeply happy to see other kids getting what they truly need.
Mourning may be solitary, but a celebration of life needs community.
On this day 15 years ago there was so much I did not know. I certainly didn’t imagine that our every day would include my child living (thriving) with mental illness. And that means that somewhere out there this evening are other mothers, in other hospitals, waiting for their own baby to join the world – and evidence shows that approximately 20% of those unborn children will likely have a diagnosable mental illness at some point in their lives.
I came across a poem this morning that was originally written in 2016 by the poet Maggie Smith. Good Bones gets to the core of the restlessness tied to trying to hold space for hope, while raising kids in a world that feels upside down. So pretty much me, right now…
If this were an actual novel, I would have thrown it across the room in disgust several chapters back. But this is real life (real absurd life), so I’m stuck waiting for the next plot twist while trying to hold out hope for something redemptive to happen.
I don’t generally feel helpless, but 28 weeks in on a global pandemic I admit to feeling a deepening sense that my actions aren’t having much impact on outcomes. So yeah, I’m feeling kind of helpless. And my brain is trying to problem solve me out of that feeling with no respect for time or for the havoc the lost sleep is playing on my energy and physical well being.
Small house. Teenagers. Tears and laughter.
If this strange time has taught me anything, it’s to find gratitude in the little things and hope hidden in the chaos. The world may be burning down around us, but inside our little house we are all okay and for today that is enough.