We met a woman today and I’ve been thinking about her all day.
Jim and I drove across the state today to pick up a piece of medical equipment that Jamie bought to use with Ben. A hoist. I could go on about how difficult it is to think that we will soon need to use a hoist to lift our three year old grandson. That lifting him (for example, in and out of the tub) is becoming difficult and dangerous, both for Ben and the lifter (who is his mom 99.9% of the time). And unfortunately, this hoist won’t fit in our small bathroom, but it will soon be needed in other situations, nevertheless, and was being sold cheap enough for Jamie to afford and to make it worth the drive to pick it up.
Back to the woman who was selling the hoist. As is the case with many parents of children with special needs, she had a story to tell and she told us a bit about her journey. She has five children and three of them have special needs. Three of them. I won’t tell her story because of course, it’s not my story to tell. I will say that she has way more than a full plate right now. She didn’t tell us in a complaining way, just as a matter of fact.
In the past, when I’ve gone through difficult times, Jim always reminded me that it could be worse. I think of that often now. I thought of it a lot this past winter because it was a very difficult one for my family. When we left this woman today, I thought of how it is truly worse for this woman than for us…many times over.
People have often praised Jamie and us for what we do, but we honestly are just doing what needs to be done. There’s no choice. Whatever comes up, we deal with it. There’s no choice. It’s the same with this woman. Her journey right now is difficult piled on top of difficult piled on top of difficult. She has no choice but to deal with it and hope things go back to what’s normal for her family (which is still difficult).
It’s part of life. It could be worse. It will probably be worse. And we just live it a day at a time. And feel blessed because you can’t imagine it any other way. Even though you still wish it could be easier.
The Sweet Simple Things 
I know I’m a week late commenting. Everyone has a story, and some of us (me) don’t take the time to find it in others. I wish I could take things a day at a time. Most of the time, I see a molehill and look down the road to the mountain it could become and then freak out over the mountain.