Being lost was a terrible feeling, but there I was, stuck on that plane, wishing desperately to be in Italy and unpacking my suitcase.  Come on; I literally was two thirds of the way there! I could see the Tuscan countryside and the beautiful architecture.  I could smell the sweet grapes on the vine and the aromas of the delicious culinary delights wafting through the air.  But, once again, the pilot announced that we were headed back to Holland while Italy still remained closed. Did I have the strength in me to see the beauty of Holland all over again with this next chapter in our lives?  If things would have stayed “comfortable” with my little girl, then I might have been able to.  But, we were soon to enter another period of very difficult times and Reality and Guilt were going to make themselves cozier than ever before. But, before that would happen, we would celebrate the small things and live in the moment of what I would call “The Middle.”

The transition to middle school started in August of 2002. Our miracle worker for this adventure was Misti.  She was amazing and her idea of educating children with special needs was to treat them no differently than other students.  She set high expectations and had them working on the same things all the other children were working on-modified, of course.  She incorporated ‘typical’ peers into the classroom at every opportunity; which was easy for her since she was the yearbook sponsor, volleyball coach and student government leader.  She was amazing and I was thankful for her each and every day.  Our big girl had been on the ketogenic diet for close to four years and we decided to wean her off the summer before she started middle school. She had done so well for all of those years and we only saw a few seizures during that entire time.

Misti was amazing and at every turn she was providing us with pictures and funny stories about the day’s activities. There were spelling tests, math tests and reading assignments that were part of each and every day. There were community field trips and parties at every turn. It was so much more than I had imagined. One afternoon, I found myself at the school for a meeting and afterward I went to have lunch with my little girl. Misti joined us at the table and when the bell rang to signal the end of the lunch period, I watched as my baby stood up, dumped her trash, put her tray on the counter and walked out of the lunchroom. I turned to look at Misti silently screaming in my head, “Aren’t you going to get up and take her to class? Isn’t there a para that’s going to at least follow her? Are you going to just let her walk out of here alone? Oh my God, woman, do something!” I know Misti could see the anguish and fear in my face. She simply told me not to worry. The other students would help her get to class if she needed it. All I could say was, “Really, she can do it  by herself?” I seriously couldn’t believe that my little girl was able to do any of the things Misti said she could do. I started looking at her differently and I realized that no matter how much I wanted to stop her from growing and transitioning, I was going to have to open my eyes wider and let it happen, and I had Misti to thank for that. She would be the reason I began to trust the world around me to take care of my little girl. She made me start to realize I didn’t have to do it all by myself and that made me a better mother, a better teacher and a better person.  I went home that day and wrote the following words, because writing was the only way I knew how to express my feelings and this time I was feeling HOPEFUL.

Today I saw you differently than I’ve ever seen before; 

Today I saw you make your way all your own down the hall.

Today I caught a glimpse of the young girl you could be; 

Today I felt a weight slowly lifted off of me. 

But, yesterday I never thought I would see you in such light;

Yesterday I cried about tomorrow through the night.

Yesterday I felt the guilt and shame that you were different;

And yesterday what you couldn’t do brought tears and disappointment.

But, Today I know you can do so much more than ever dreamed;

And Tomorrow won’t be as frightening as it had once seemed.

Tomorrow holds a future that gets brighter every day.

Tomorrow you’ll be applauded for your talents and unique way. 

Tomorrow I will look upon with joy instead of sorrow;

For the best is yet to come with the acceptance of Tomorrow. 

I would hold on to the hope that tomorrow would bring me closer to acceptance myself. You see, having a child with a disability brings you around and around to so many emotions over and over again. You begin to accept your child and you “see” the beauty of Holland but something always pushes you backward. Something always brings up the picture of Italy in your head and you end up spiraling downward on your rope; having to climb back up with every ounce of strength you have left. It’s exhausting having to handle all of those feelings and emotions and I’m sure people on the outside looking in just wanted to scream, “Get over it! Accept it and move on! We all have problems, we all have something we struggle with, just deal with it!” And that’s what I did. I continued to smile on the outside. I repeated in my head, “It could always be worse.”

I threw myself into my job and my family and I started changing. I started evolving on the inside. I didn’t want to keep tying knots, hanging on to ropes and wishing to be somewhere else. I had realized years before when searching for answers, that I was responsible for my life and how I wanted to be remembered. So, I started working on building a solid foundation to keep myself on the ground and not hanging from a rope. I started creating a new path that would lead to places I wanted to be instead of waiting on a plane to land “somewhere.” Yes, we all have challenges in life and the solution to surviving comes down to how you “choose” to handle what you’ve been given and how you “choose” to be seen by others. I wanted to make the most of my situation and everything I had learned from the amazing people around me.