Matt carries Carsen up the flight of stairs as I tag a long, contently. We see a small girl all dressed in pink. Her mother is by her side to push her in her rather large wheelchair. She doesn't even have the muscle tone to open her eyes and she needs supports surrounding her just to hold her head up. I wonder what life must be like for her. Not able to communicate even with a blink of an eye. I pray for her. That could be any one of us or any one of our children. God give her mother peace.
As we go through the sliding doors to check in, we stand behind the most beautiful little boy. The video cameras in the place would have spotted me with a huge smile. He was beautiful and looked just like Carsen. I am not kidding. He had the smile of a little boy that just enjoyed life the way it is and will be forever. He used his automatic wheelchair with a joystick and made his way through the very large waiting room. By now he caught on that I adored him. He kept turning his head to see me and then would come stroll by in his wheelchair to get closer. Matt walks up to his mom and asks, "How old is he?" "Nine." She said. Then he says, "He is someone that inspires us!" We were both in awe of this kid. He is called away for his appt and I immediately begin to sob. As I can hardly hold back the tears and full blown emotion, Matt and I visit about how much he is like Carsen. How blessed we would feel so see Carsen be independent like that someday. I am touched in my life just briefly by this kid. A child that has so many more stresses and no body control, carries a smile like that? I am inspired beyond words.
As another small girl screams continuously for who knows what reason, as we are called in by Dr. Burstein. Matt says I flirt with this 60 year old guy. It cracks me up. He is such a special doctor in our life. He has listened to our every hurt and understands it. To feel understood is such a wonderful feeling. He has basically counseled us through our hardest moments and now can see a change in us. In our 20 minute conversation with him we get compliments from him. Compliments on our parenting, our decisions, or goals, our future, our family and the small details with Carsen. I know he can see the change in us. The positive attitude. Our willingness to move forward in life. The love we have for our little boy. The compassion we have for those with special needs. I am so happy to be on the other end of the crazy grieving process. It is my greatest accomplishment and it feels fabulous. Beyond ever finishing any half marathon, or triathlon, or 10K race. God has been good to us!
As Carsens little head is measured I begin to tell Dr. Burstein how I think every parent should sit in that dreadful waiting room. He is slightly puzzled by this. I suppose it would seem harsh. I don't mean it that way. I know how I feel every time I am there. Blessed, but reminded that Carsen's life will always be difficult. There is no better lesson in our life. To feel blessed because there is always someone that has it so so so much worse and someone that has it better. It is what you make of your situation. Complaints get me no where in life. He then says to me, "I think there are many parents in that waiting room that wish they were you guys." I agreed with him. Even though Carsen cannot walk, talk or feed himself, he is able to smile, giggle, joke around, scoot and bring so much joy through his silly personality. As a family, we are hurting far less than many of those other parents or children that are actually having to live in a body with little control.
These are the lesson's in life that are worth writing and sharing. Special needs children that change a person. They change me in a split second and I will never forget how brave they have to be in order to enjoy their life. God is good!
