I have so much gratitude bursting out of me lately.
And it’s a weird balance to write about it here on the blog because I know with social media it’s sometimes somehow depressing to see endless “amazing”‘s and “wonderful”‘s and “look how great this is!” stuff. I want to keep it real, and let’s be honest, no one has bright sunny days all the time and everyone has their own secret sorrows. Vastly different from one another, yes, but they are there. We have had some pretty great things going on here lately and I’ve been trying to keep record of it all before I forget. But I haven’t taken the time to sit down and record some of my more heavy thoughts lately…I will get to it at some point.
Honestly it is so true that gratitude is so good to make the rough and tough stuff seem so much smaller. When I focus on what I’m grateful for all the worries and bad stuff seems to pale in comparison.
The weather has been glorious here in the desert lately. Just that alone makes my heart want to sing. But for today I want to talk about what made my heart have wings last week.
You know that saying right? Not sure where it came from, but I experienced an extended dose of my heart growing humongous wings a couple weeks ago.
It happened while I was at Parent/Teacher conference.
I never quite know what to expect when I go see Lucy’s teachers. For some reason she has been blessed with the most extraordinary teachers of all time. Teachers who make me cry they are so good to her. Teachers who have changed her life for the better.
Sure, all good teachers do that to some extent. But as the mother of a girl with some special needs that ability is magnified ten thousand times.
So given Lucy’s track record of teachers who “get” her, it seems like I may start expecting that but I don’t. I always wonder what in the world that teacher is going to think of her moods, her slightly obsessive compulsive behaviors, the fact that sometimes she will bawl if she doesn’t get a chance to read aloud in class, etc. Dave and I have been extra worried about third grade because lots of things change and get tougher. Worksheet print gets smaller, reading comprehension gets more tricky, and multiplication and division add a whole new dimension to the math arena.
So I went into that classroom last week with a little trepidation.
…until that wonderfully dear teacher began her glowing report.
She showed me lots of Lucy’s work. She commented on how creative she is.
How artistic her handwriting is.
How in love with her creative story she was:
How good she is at setting things up:
How well she listens and is quick to obey.
How she is in the top reading group and getting close-to-perfect grades on almost every assignment.
And I wonder if that teacher could feel those heart-wings of mine growing.
I sat there in awe and wonder at yet another teacher who “gets” my girl.
Of sweet friends who are patient with her stubbornness.
Of her siblings who teach her so much every day.
Of Dave who tells her the most imaginative and wonderful stories from which I’m sure she bases her imagination for writing her own.
Of the fact that she’s so willing to work hard.
And even in awe of her unrelenting determination that kills me sometimes but that will get her places in life.
The teacher went on to tell me how much she adores her Braille teacher who comes in twice a week. She has figured out a way for Lucy to not feel ostracized from the rest of the class and lets her pick a friend to come work with her on Braille each week. The kids love to be picked (Braille is a pretty cool thing to learn), and Lucy’s chest puffs up with pride that she gets to learn it.
Yes, as I left the classroom that day my heart could have burst right out of my chest. I went home to share all my news with Dave and the two of us called Lucy in for a special “meeting” of love and pride with tears filling our eyes.
Yes, it may sound dramatic, but that day gave me a full understanding of how hearts can really grow wings and fly. Because that’s what all three of our hearts did that evening.
Sometimes worry and concern can flip around and create such an amazing high.
And that, my friends, creates some serious deeper than deep gratitude.
I know there’s a lot more worry to come. Just because academics seem pretty “on” right now doesn’t mean we aren’t worried sick about how she sometimes wants to hoard food, how she her eyes seem to be degenerating a little faster, how her feet are turning more outward and making it more awkward for her to run, and the list goes on. I know there are things that sweet teacher didn’t tell me. Claire has seen Lucy bawling in the hallway before. Her emotions still run high.
But for that day in time right there to get such a glowing report in the midst of lots of worries felt like a huge slice of Heaven.
I’m so grateful for that sweet girl of ours and every mentor in her life. Strangers who say hi to her on the street, friends who don’t care that she’s a little different, so many family members who love her, and for what she teaches us each day.
And I’m equally grateful that her beautiful blue eyes can still see well enough to make creations like this: