Traffic

Raising a child with special needs is a lot like being stuck in traffic.

You’re driving along and then all of a sudden you see the brake lights illuminate on the cars in front of you. Then you slow to a stop. This is not what I planned for at all. I’m not prepared for this. I thought I did everything right and left the house with ample time but I guess not, and to be honest, I’m angry. I start to feel anxious and wonder when we’ll start moving again. I worry about being late to my destination. I try to look ahead to determine what the holdup is, but I can’t see past the truck in front of me. Great, absolutely NO IDEA what is up ahead or how long this will take. I keep seeing the minutes get added to my estimated arrival time on my GPS. I’m frustrated, worried, anxious, angry, and there is nothing I can do to make this traffic move along any faster.

I’m so angry at something I have absolutely no control over. My air conditioning isn’t working and of course it’s a sweltering 85 degrees and sunny with barely a breeze. We roll the windows down and try to cool off. My shirt is wet with sweat and I’m stuck. I can’t turn around. I can’t do anything but inch forward. I look over at the cars moving swiftly in the other direction. I’m so jealous; so jealous that they are driving along without a worry. For fleeting moments I wish I was them.

As I sat in this traffic I realized that those feelings are exactly what it felt like when we received our diagnosis. I felt stuck. Sweaty, anxious, worried, and angry. I had no idea what was up ahead of us and I had no options to turn around. As time went on in the traffic jam I started to relax. I notice the beautiful architecture and the shapes of the buildings. The wildflowers in the ditch are absolutely breathtaking. Even the sun beating down on me makes me close my eyes and thank God for this moment. I turn the radio up a little louder and sing along. I catch the eye of the driver next to me and we just laugh as I was caught singing karaoke in my car.

So, I slowly inch towards my destination. I know I’ll arrive…eventually. Raising a child with special needs will have a lot of road blocks and unexpected traffic, but we’ll get there when we get there. We will find beauty and joy. Arriving at our destinations may be much slower with added anger, frustration, and worry, but there will also be tremendous happiness upon our arrival. I still glance over at the cars moving in the other direction, but I realize that their destinations are not mine. They are not going where I’m going.

It’s not always going to be bad traffic, and it’s not always going to be smooth sailing. One thing I have learned is that you must keep going. Whether it is inches or miles. Just keep going.