New beginnings. New life. New paths. New Routines. New behaviors. New changes. New.
In order for anything to exist, it must begin.
In order for anything to survive, it must adapt.
In order for anything to avoid extinction, it must change.
But when something does cease, new beginnings occur. Life renews.
Renewed energies. Renewed loves. Renewed and fresh.
My husband and I, we love each other deeply. We wouldn’t still be together if we didn’t. Still together, 10 years later. But, I am not saying it has been easy. Love is hard. Love hurts. Love is tough, angry, tiring. But, Love is worth it. Love is kind. Love is gentle. Love is pride. Love is calming, supportive, understanding.
My husband and I, we lost our ways. But a simple afternoon at the pumpkin patch with our little family, and a simple date night dinner, helped us find our way back to each other. Like ships in the night. That lost their anchor. We floated, in different directions, lost at sea. But our anchor, our love for each other, and for our family, pulled us back in. Back together. Working towards the same goal. For ourselves, for each other, for our children.
This simple afternoon picking out pumpkins, in a field, in the middle of a wide open space, it brought a new appreciation for our children, their lives, their experiences. It brought a new appreciation for us as a family, working together.
Taking Mr. Man out to new places, outside of his normal routine schedule, is becoming tricky. A pumpkin patch. A new experience. A new routine.
Will the stray from routine be too much? Will the chaos of a different environment be too much?Will the vast open fields be too much? Will the unknown of what is expected be too much? Will the freedom be too much? Will the vast array of choices be too much? Will the smells be too much?
Juggling. Between not enough, just perfect, and too much. A tricky balance. We are new. New to this balance. Not all jugglers got it right the first few rounds.
Maybe it is tricky because I am examining all the possible triggers, in a new light. Maybe it is tricky because I don’t know what will set him off. Maybe it is tricky because I really want our daughter to enjoy activities without myself or my husband being on brother watch, keeping him calm, and away from shutdown mode, yet not letting him reach the brink of meltdown.
Or maybe, it is becoming tricky because I am grieving the loss of my “perfectly normal” son. Walking a fine line between leaving the the old abnormal normal behind and welcoming the new abnormal normal.
But that is OK.
Because our new abnormal normal, may have caused our anchor to shift, to loosen in the deep sand, but it has found new footing. In a more beautiful location. In a location surrounded by vibrant colors, new views, renewed appreciation.
Yesterday, the new adventure could have set him off. But he handled it. Like a champ. Maybe it was because didn’t push him to ride the train. He said no. We kept walking. Maybe it was because when he gave me his signal for up, his signal that he needed out of harm, that he needed to sit on top of his anchor, I noticed quickly.
This is our new. This journey, it is a new journey. We can always grieve for what has been lost. But this new path, will be just as much of an adventure.
