Writing escapes me from time, to time. I forget how much it centers me. I forget how much it helps me feel at peace. I forget how much I get from putting words to problems down, instead of just letting them fester in my head. I forget how much I will appreciate remembering a small moment in our life, long after it's gone. I forget how sharing, may help others to learn. I forget that taking time for me helps my family. I forget that I enjoy writing.
So here I am, with not much & way too much swimming in my head.
Last week I shared "our story" with a class at Nazareth College. The class was made up of college kids pursuing Special Education. My friend, who teaches the class, had asked me to share some of our journey, as a family, raising a daughter with multiple special needs.
Trying to condense the journey would be tough. I would talk too long & leave, knowing I hadn't shared all I hoped to.
My note card quietly folded away in my purse. I had decided to just go with my heart. I've always believed sharing would help someone, somehow, someday... When we are open, we possibly help others to find the easier path. We help teach understanding & compassion. When we share our stories we bring people together & we don't feel so alone.
So to the "kids" at Naz, I want to thank you for listening. I hope someday when you are teaching a child like my daughter, you remember that behind that child, there is a family. There is a history of pain & joy that got them to where they are. There are people who probably didn't choose this path, but walk proudly anyway. Please walk with us, not against us. We need you to believe in our children and we need you to believe in us.
So here I am, with not much & way too much swimming in my head.
Last week I shared "our story" with a class at Nazareth College. The class was made up of college kids pursuing Special Education. My friend, who teaches the class, had asked me to share some of our journey, as a family, raising a daughter with multiple special needs.
Trying to condense the journey would be tough. I would talk too long & leave, knowing I hadn't shared all I hoped to.
My note card quietly folded away in my purse. I had decided to just go with my heart. I've always believed sharing would help someone, somehow, someday... When we are open, we possibly help others to find the easier path. We help teach understanding & compassion. When we share our stories we bring people together & we don't feel so alone.
So to the "kids" at Naz, I want to thank you for listening. I hope someday when you are teaching a child like my daughter, you remember that behind that child, there is a family. There is a history of pain & joy that got them to where they are. There are people who probably didn't choose this path, but walk proudly anyway. Please walk with us, not against us. We need you to believe in our children and we need you to believe in us.
