I have been talking and thinking a lot about grief the past few months. It seems that wherever I turn I run straight into it. The grief that I am speaking of is not the loss of life but instead the loss of the life I expected.
We all deal with disappointments that sometimes brings us to our knees but we get up brush it off and move forward to bigger and better things. Afterall isn’t the saying, “quitters never win and winners never quit” ingrained in all of us?
This isn’t what I’m talking about. I am referring to the loss of potential and a future. When Middle Miss was 3 years and 3 months old we were involved in a horrific car accident. She was code blue at the scene, survived and has a severe Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI). The past 14 years have been full of challenges getting her the services she needs and deserves while also being thankful for her recovery. I have been in constant survival mode trying to make sure she receives every bit of rehabilitation she needs as well as making sure Big Miss didn’t feel left out and receives the attention she deserves and needs. Add on, Little Miss born seven years following our accident.
All through this we didn’t have a crystal ball that told us what the future held. We hoped for the best and moved on to the next phase of recovery. Now we are entering a new phase. She is 6 months away from turning 18 and a year plus from graduating high school. Usually at this point in a child’s life the parents have a clear role of what the future holds. Of course, nothing is guaranteed, but we still have so many unknowns. What does the future hold for her?
This is the grief I have been feeling for the past two years. The grief of lost potential since we never knew what she was capable of being so young at the time of the accident. The grief that once she reaches a certain age I can start focusing on me and what I need. The grief that she may never achieve full independence. The grief that if she isn’t fully independent who will help her when we are gone.
Hope and resilience have been my mantras and my stabilizing forces. I, mostly, remain grateful for all that we have learned during this period but some days the grief is so strong I feel like I am drowning.
I look forward to continuing this blog and telling you our story of hope and resilience.