There are two rooms.

In one I am sitting. In one I am standing. Stand next to me . Feel your heart swell with pride. Watch the award being received.

Hear the applause.  See the smiles on the faces.  On your child’s face.

Feel the warmth deep within your core.   Feel that powerful strength and joy.

Now…

Sit next to me.

Feel  the buzz of the silence as the doctor’s words start to sink in.  The neurologist or speech therapist or occupational therapist or physical therapist or psychiatrist or behavioral specialist or geneticist.   Feel the  ringing in your ears. 

 The pounding in your heart or is it pounding in your head?   Feel that power of disappointment.    

A salient silence that is painfully heavy and loud as hell.  Hear it.   Feel your hopeful  heart sink.

 Feel the weight of effort as you hold it together or the weight of losing it all together.

And again.  AGAIN.  Muster courage and rage big enough to try again to move mountains.  

        Hang onto every lucky object you can find.   Make time for more endless hours of therapy, find new doctors, wish on everything and anything.   Pray and hold tight.   Hope harder, wish on stars and search for more four leaf clovers.

Find the next mountain to climb.  Duck your head out of the forest and take a deep, long full breath of air and duck back in.    Find hope and grasp onto it harder,   Search for  joy in knowing difference and keep on struggling to learn from it as you continue to….

FIND A WAY.