the home stretch

“I don’t know about you, but I feel like I’m really grieving this year,” a good friend says to me as we stand in the grocery aisle holding cans of soup on a Tuesday afternoon. 

“I get it. I’ve been feeling that way for the last two or three years,” I tell her, my eyes are blue-green pools of heartfelt empathy. She knows—we all know—those of us who have a child with special needs journeying through their senior year, on the brink of adulthood. Although our boys have different diagnoses, our challenges as parents are very much the same.

Granted, anyone who has a son or daughter (neurotypical or not) nearing graduation is probably, at the very least, a little sentimental when this period ends. However, in talking with others who have kids with special needs, it can be a period of great emotional turmoil. While other parents might be assisting with college applications or helping their child explore various other paths (work, tech school, etc.), we are working on guardianship petitions and completing training for this responsibility not to mention attending meetings on social security, special needs trusts, and other informational sessions about how to help our children transition from school into the real world. It can be overwhelming, confusing, anxiety-provoking, not to mention downright challenging to imagine what life will look like for our child. Who will hire them? What will they do in their day-to-day lives?

I think my grieving also has a lot to do with Micah having had, for the most part, a very good experience as he’s journeyed through public school. He’s made steady progress every year, had some amazing teachers and paraprofessionals, had very good support, shown adaptability and resilience (think pandemic years), and has had opportunities to participate in an activity he’s loved: performing arts. He’s been in plays every year since fourth grade. It’s hard knowing that next year, he won’t have that opportunity.

I will miss the structure of it all—structure that is so crucial to Micah’s life–and to my own.

So now what? How will I help shape Micah’s life, assist him in producing the fabric of his days? Where will I find the job, the activities, the purpose, the things that will make Micah’s life as fulfilling as it can be? Yes, he will have two or three years in the transitions program through the school system. Of course, we will take that step and see where it leads.

Next week begins the start of Micah’s last semester of high school–the home stretch. And, I can truly say that I am finally sensing that menacing melancholy loosen its vice-like grip. Bit by bit, as I’ve witnessed my son’s increasing skills and capabilities, that prison cell seems to be breaking open to an emerging sense of hope and, perhaps, a renewed sense of purpose in me as well. It’s a chance for us to help him explore possibilities, try different avenues, perhaps start something new (a group or business perhaps?). The other day, Todd mentioned that Micah should start a podcast doing reviews of new Disney or superhero movies. Wow—that would be right up his alley, wouldn’t it?

Looking back over Micah’s life, I see how I’ve just had to take it step by step, day by day, month by month. Be faithful to what God has called me to do as a mom, trust that He has everything in His control, and, above all, love my son through the long haul. The hard emotions come and go but there is no negotiating on holding on—pressing on—that is essential!

After all, there is no need to fear—Micah’s life (not to mention mine) is in God’s hands. And with God, of course, all things are possible!