I have read a story this Mother’s Day about a middle school child with a brain injury who has made a remarkable recovery. Yet the tone of the story was that the parents continue to grieve the child they used to have instead of accepting their new reality.
They have suffered tremendously, and I feel for the shock and scare they have endured. I want to feel sympathy for them. Pity. Sadness. Compassion.
But they had something like eight, nine years with this child to get to know him before the accident.
Now you know I believe that God has created my child perfectly for his purpose in this world, but . . .
I would love to have five minutes with my child in a situation where his brain functioned as it should.
I would ask him why he needs to shake things.
If he sees pictures or colors in his head when he hears music.
If his stomach hurt without him answering, “Does it?”
If he really likes math.
If there’s something I can do to make things easier.
If he really understands how much I love him.