She taught me.

Today I sat in a tiny kitchen visiting with a sweet lady, I haven't known for long, but it feels like we're nearly family...

With each passing sentence,  memories flood my mind. Mostly mom, but dad was there too. How easy a mind goes back to difficult things you've spent years forgetting. 

Aging is certainly not for the weak, bodies and health usually betrays us long before we are ever ready. I never planned on remembering those heart wrenching years with my parents, but there are glimpses all around me...and in an instant my heart remembers the heartache.

But in a moment I reach out to comfort my sweet new friend across a tiny cluttered table. Something years ago I could not muster for my frail mom. Memories that bring pain have also taught a quiet compassion and a tender heart.

I have so often wondered why I have gone through so much...today I felt the spirit whisper, this is why...I needed you to know how to love, your Sisters.

I came home and shed thankful tears and quietly thanked my mom for all she taught me. 

Fitting in.

I've never quite fit in, something I'm totally okay with and kinda proud of most of the time...my family has never fit the mold either, not the one I created with a pretty awesome superhero and definitely not the one I grew up it...

Different is good, right? Different is special, right? Different is exhausting, well sometimes...

What if sometimes, just sometimes you wish you could feel normal, just for a few moments or so...

Normal so you didn't have to ever explain...
Normal so you could blend in...
Normal so you would never be asked what's wrong with you...
Normal so you never knew the pain of stigma...

I sat in a large group and never felt more isolated in my life.

My husband doesn't have a profession anymore an illness out of our control took that away, just as success seemed certain... but as others talk of their husbands jobs and salaries and working too much and climbing ladders, and wanting the next bigger, newer thing... I've got nothing...grateful I can put food on the table.

I listen as others complain about family being too involved, too helpful, parents that are imperfect, having to go to yet another family function... again I've got nothing...wishing I could have just five more minutes with my mom, just five more minutes with my dad....

I listen to others tell me that if their children left the church, the heartache would be the worst thing imaginable and I've got nothing...because I know it's not the heartache they imagine....

I listen as they tell me of some new exercise routine I should try, or hike they've been on, or marathon run, and I've got nothing...accepting that cerebral palsy makes a few things too painful and even dangerous...

I listen as misunderstandings fly about mental illness and treatment choices and that stigma just doesn't exist anymore...and I've got nothing...because keeping quiet is easier than explaining it again, and again and again...grateful that my heart accepts and understands our reality.

Okay so I'm really not talking about them being normal and me being different...what I'm really talking about is judgement and understanding. Different is amazing and awesome when it is accepted through understanding...I don't want to feel normal, I want to feel understood. Something we all want when we don't quite fit in.