Yesterday was the one year anniversary from one of the most terrifying times I have ever been through…Anthony’s spinal surgery. Of course, we all know, he rocked it. Lately, I have been reminiscing on all the ups and downs of this crazy life. I think my recent lesson is trust…trust the process. This one is pretty tough for a situation like ours because the whole thing is really unfair and I know way harder things are on the horizon. So to suggest trust, may seem a bit delusional or incredibly naive. But here’s why I make this proposal…
For us, and I can only speak for us, every time there is dark, it is followed by light. Every time there is extreme fear, there is comfort and reassurance. And every time there is the robbery of hope, it is followed by some rare occurrence of a small yet impactful miracle.
Ac’s arms are getting weaker. It’s starting to impair the smallest of tasks. As usual, I was caught completely off guard, as if I was never educated about the progression of DMD. Last week, in the movies, AC discovered he could no longer eat popcorn. Trying to be strong and positive in the midst of his unfathomable discoveries has become one my biggest challenges. But I sucked it up, left myself out of it and fed him popcorn throughout the movie assuring we would simply find another way like we always do. A few days later, I came to the realization that an old high school friend I grew up that I had kept in contact with through Facebook, actually worked for the parent company of the X-aR Arms. I reached out to her, connected all the dots and a week later, she and designer of the arms are on their way to Arizona to install the robotic arms on Anthony’s chair. Within a week, not only was Anthony’s popcorn dilemma solved, but a small miracle occurred and once again, just in the nic of time, hope revealed. This is how our life works.
I don’t have any idea if it works this way for anyone else. I can only say, the dark times seem to provide more cracks for the light to shine through. I look around at so many others who seem to have even less hope, less help and less light. I can only speculate that we are very blessed; I honestly can’t imagine why we would be special. Perhaps it’s so we can share our light with others. Either way, I feel compelled by some divine order to look at the bad and the good, and find a way to gleen some trust from this crazy process.
