Auld Lang Syne

This time last year, I enthusiastically said, “Good riddance 2009!” I had spent the end of December exalted by the prospect of a new year only to be greeted with Raphael’s first significant scary illness since The Sickness he had at birth.

His sudden fever on New Year’s Day launched us into the chaos of 2010 complete with nonstop -ologist visits (i.e., pulmonologist, neurologist, cardiologist, otolaryngologist, and the like), half a year of shlepping an oxygen tank wherever we went, a handful of medical procedures, and a mysterious sickness for his brother to boot.

The year 2010 was one of incessant worry. It was a year of cramming in way…too… much and learning to adapt every… little… thing.

I had thought 2009 had been my crazy year with a new job, a pregnancy I didn’t know about until five months in (that’s a story for another day), a bout with swine flu (where I sincerely wanted to be dead), a newborn being airlifted to The Children’s Hospital, the drawn-out loss of my dear friend, and the beginning of life as a parent of a child who has developmental delays.

But by the time Raphael turned one on June 17, 2010, I told people I had enough to write about just since he had come to fill a book. I was going to call it “Embracing Grace.”

The subtitle: “What the F— Just Happened!”

I suppose it would still be an appropriate title. But by now, I think I could fill a tome.

So this time, as the year flies to its close and the heavy snow blanketing Colorado falsely hints that time can slow, I am not going to bid farewell to the past with venom or with melancholy.

I won’t say good-bye without looking back because, man! That was hard. (Hey, even Jack Bauer threw in the towel in 2010.)

But I am not facing tomorrow with earnest, wide open hope, either.

Hello 2011. Welcome reality.

I am ready to make some real changes. I will take whatever you have in store for us.

By the way, do you want to see resilience?

Let’s hang the new calendar.

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About elizamom

Colorado mother of two small boys. One happens to have Down syndrome.
This entry was posted in Confession, Parenting Special Needs and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Auld Lang Syne

  1. Pingback: A light in the storm | The Upside

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