Future Encounters

Hello there.
You don't know me. We haven't met yet. But one day in the future, we will.
You will look at me, walking through a store, or sitting in a waiting room, or waiting in line behind you, with my daughter by my side and refuse to meet my eye. You will walk away, shaking your head, and thinking quite smugly, 'Better her than me." You will wonder briefly, as you drive home to be greeted by your normal children, in your normal house, your normal life, what would make someone choose to give birth to a child like that. You will think that there is no way you could ever deal with caring for a "handicapped" child. Then we will blow through your mind like a cool breeze and be gone.

That random encounter won't even involve any exchange of words at all. But I'm going to tell you that I will know what you are thinking. I will be gracious. I promise. But I will also be smugly thinking to myself about just what it is you're missing......

You're missing a smile like the very sunshine. You're missing bubbly laughter. You're missing all of the little celebrations that come with mundane accomplishments. You're missing the light, the beauty, the joy. You don't know how smart my Liddy is, or how much we love her. You're missing her love for us. You aren't the recipient of a one of a kind, dimple cheeked, split that precious face in half Lydia Anne grin. You're missing out on some of life's greatest lessons, all taught while watching a little girl who has more faith, more strength, more will power than most of the adults in this world and who faces every struggle head on. We are the light in her world. And that makes us the lucky ones.

We don't always get to choose the paths we walk in life. Sometimes the decisions are hard, while others are simply no-brainers. Having Liddy, just the way God made her, is a no-brainer to us.
That doesn't make us stronger than you, or wiser, or better parents. It just makes us parents who love their child.
We're really not that different, you and I.
Our goals, our hopes and dreams for our children, are just the same. My hopes and dreams for Lydia are no different than those that every parent has for their child. I am full of faith that those hopes and dreams will be realized, even if it takes us a little longer to get there than it does others. We both gaze at our children with wonder and are breathless with their beauty. We take pride in their accomplishments, and brag to everyone we meet about how bright, how talented, how awe inspiring they are. We both strive to raise intelligent, responsible adults who will spread their wings and soar into the clouds. We both shed the same grateful tears when we held our babies for the first time, and we will both shed the same tears of grief when the time comes to let them go.

This isn't the road I set out on. It's not the life I pictured. It's a work in progress still. And while it may not have been what I would have chosen....
It's better than I could have ever dreamed.