As we struggle with parenting special kids, I think there’s a wide, raging river we need to cross.
The river is called, “Why?”
The “Why River” extends from the banks of injustice to the shores of acceptance. On one side is a dark and frightening forest with rising mists; this is where we now stand. On the other side is an open sunny valley with occasional rain. Flowers grow there. It’s peaceful and tranquil. That’s the place we want to be, and yet, there’s that river.
The thing is, you can’t cross the river, because it’s too wide and treacherous. There is no way to safely get across it. Try and you just might get swept away.
“Why did this happen to us?”
“Why was my child given this handicap?”
“Why did it have to be our family?”
“Why did it have to be such a severe case?”
“Why does everyone else’s life seem so easy?”
These are tormenting questions, mind-boggling and infuriating. Torrents of despair surround them. The trouble is, there are no answers. Nobody knows why their child was given certain challenges. We might grapple with scientific explanations, but these are guesses. We can use spiritual explanations, but even with belief in a source of higher power, we could not possibly know its purposes. For now, and maybe forever, there is no adequate answer to, “Why?” And yet we wrestle with it. As long as we do, we will remain standing trapped on the river bank.
I’ve decided the only way to reach acceptance is to stop asking why. The fact is, THIS IS OUR REALITY. Does “why” matter? Would knowing why remove the challenge before us? No. And maybe focusing on it is only a feeble attempt to distract ourselves. So how can we make the best of it? What joy can we bring into the life of this special person? What can we teach her? How can we create the best experiences possible for him? How can we help her know she is loved completely and unconditionally? How can we embrace this trial with dignity and grace? What can we do to reach out to others, who are traveling the same road? We must anxiously engage ourselves in these causes, letting go of “why” entirely.
And that’s when the river dries up, and we simply walk across. Our feet get a little muddy, but that’s alright. Acceptance awaits. And that’s a good and peaceful place to be.