The Broken Glasses

22 Oct

I am always navigating through a crazy maze of trials in my life. Always trying to figure out if the “what is” now is “what it’s supposed to be.”  I constantly examine this concept with myself and especially my children.

Last Tuesday was an especially difficult day. I struggled through the day and my kids weren’t even home from school yet. Once my little ones arrived home things went from hard to climbing Mt. Everest. Blaise my sweet boy who has Prader Willi Syndrome and Autism was in a state of destruction. As dinner approached I asked my sweet angel where his glasses where. Very nonchalantly he responded that they are broken. The two of us found our way into his bedroom where he showed me both pairs of his glasses, broken, twisted and shattered in little pieces. I found myself cracking into those little pieces too. I lost my patience and started yelling, I hate that part of me that comes out when my soul cracks.

I screamed at him, “Why, Why, Why?”

He never answered, he didn’t understand what I was asking him. This led to the real issue. The glasses aren’t the issue, they are at the surface, they are the like the skin, they are just the part you see. The real issue was exploding inside.

Why can’t my son understand me? Why can’t my son be normal? Why doesn’t my sons brain work?

There it is the guts of it all. It’s the insides coming out, the organs and the blood.

Seven years of dealing with special circumstances doesn’t make it easier. Seven years doesn’t make those bitter moments sting less. Seven years doesn’t close the wounds. I have spent the last few years stuffing down my feelings and pretending that all is cohesive, tough but working. In reality it was all still there under the surface, inside a pressure cooker about to explode.

I found myself crying after my kids went to sleep that night. I cried for myself, I cried for the stress that his syndrome can create in me, but mostly I cried for him. I cried for what I thought was missing. I was quiet after I let it all out, I was quiet all through the days that followed. Something had opened up and I had to finally face it and deal.

I had to accept what is.


Blaise accepts his life. It’s time I remember how to live more like him. Blaise doesn’t see failures or “lack of’s” in his life. He accepts things and does so with a smile.

I am working on accepting “the what is” now. I added into my ah ha moment that I can accept what is now and trust that things may look different in the future. I have to let go of what I think it is “supposed” to look like in my life, and my kids lives.

As the parent of a special needs child I tend to be on a roller coaster of emotions daily. Going through the struggles with my child. Walking the path of his life right by his side. It can be a daunting task. One thing I don’t need to add to my plate is judgement to what I think the picture of my child’s life should be.

I happily bought the little one a new pair of glasses. Hopefully this experience will have us both see a little clearer.

5 Responses to “The Broken Glasses”

  1. Jennifer K. October 22, 2013 at 1:38 pm #

    I can relate to this on so many levels. Nolan and Blaise have much in common. Having an autism Dx along with PWS only adds to an already difficult situation. We face many similar challenges. I have observed how Nolan can explode and then move on, while I implode and quietly self-destruct. Keeping your words in mind today as I put my own glasses on… Thanks Rachel ❤

  2. JenPastiloff October 29, 2013 at 12:55 am #

    Reblogged this on The Manifest-Station and commented:
    I somehow missed my sister’s latest. Hope you won’t! Please read and follow her site xo jen

  3. barbarapotter October 29, 2013 at 1:14 am #

    My heart is with you.

  4. barbarapotter October 29, 2013 at 1:15 am #

    My heart is with you and my little guy.

  5. marcyrin October 29, 2013 at 1:18 am #

    Wow I have just come to the same place. My son, now 20, has aspergers and I kept trying to fix him. Like he wasn’t already perfect. I am forced now to let go of control. I cannot fix anyone. I cannot rush in to the rescue. That is ego. I have no control over what others do, or who loves me and who doesn’t. I can only love.

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