Thursday, May 19, 2016

Life's Trap Doors

So a few days ago, someone around me used the phrase "the short bus" to describe the bus service for special needs children. While I'm certain that no harm was intended, it stopped me cold. The second those words were out in the air, a trap door opened underneath me.  Another person nearby could tell, and was quietly, unobtrusively, and wonderfully supportive of me, but it was truly a bucket of ice water being dropped on me. I had Tucker with me (who seems to have not heard it, or not cared) so I sucked the tears back in as quickly as I could and moved on with the day, but it's been lingering, and it occurred to me that the trap door nature is the part that is bothering me the most. I don't like this feeling that I caught myself by the fingertips at the edge, and have to awkwardly find a way back up.

I am a calm person in an emergency. But the trap door part of my life now is going to be probably the hardest, because I cannot predict them. Trap doors. Landmines. There's all kinds of imagery I could use. The image isn't what matters. It's the feeling of your stomach dropping out that you cannot predict or avoid. And the worry that your sensitive little ones are going to hear disparaging things and want explanations that you don't readily have. And the internal sadness that people can be thoughtless, including you. Seems pretty much like life, right? Why is this so much harder now?

I'm still sorting through it. Any ideas you have would be appreciated.

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