One Foot in Front of the Other
"Will you keep blogging now that Lacy is gone?" I've been asked this more than once, and I have considered the same question.
I began this blog to write about the challenges and joys of parenting a special needs child who was on the autism spectrum and was developmentally delayed. A few years after I started writing, we found out that Lacy was positive for Huntington's disease. With that diagnosis, the focus of my writing changed. Our family began a new journey with a new and terrifying diagnosis.
The experiences and feelings I wrote about are familiar to those who live with HD, but also to anyone who has a loved one with a terminal illness. I don't think we are unique in how we dealt with the diagnosis, nor in how we navigated the last five years. I hope that the words I wrote were comforting, affirming, and encouraging to those who read them.
Now walking the road of grief, we wonder: Are we still a family? Are we still parents? The answers are yes and yes, but what does that look like now?
Our house is quiet. The week after Lacy died, one of my friends remarked that, even though Lacy did not live at home, there was a stillness here. Kenny and I have both felt it. While Lacy was with us in body we were connected to him, a completeness that is missing now.
Lacy is gone from our sight, but our journey continues. We will be walking the same road, but we'll be walking through the "valley of the shadow of death" and grieving the loss of our warrior son. We can't see very far down this road, but we know that God has a plan and He has prepared the way.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff - they comfort me. (Psalm 23:4) Like a loving Shepherd, God will guide us as we walk.
For now, I'll answer the question in this way: Until I no longer have words to write or thoughts to share about our journey, I'll keep blogging.
I began this blog to write about the challenges and joys of parenting a special needs child who was on the autism spectrum and was developmentally delayed. A few years after I started writing, we found out that Lacy was positive for Huntington's disease. With that diagnosis, the focus of my writing changed. Our family began a new journey with a new and terrifying diagnosis.
The experiences and feelings I wrote about are familiar to those who live with HD, but also to anyone who has a loved one with a terminal illness. I don't think we are unique in how we dealt with the diagnosis, nor in how we navigated the last five years. I hope that the words I wrote were comforting, affirming, and encouraging to those who read them.
Now walking the road of grief, we wonder: Are we still a family? Are we still parents? The answers are yes and yes, but what does that look like now?
Our house is quiet. The week after Lacy died, one of my friends remarked that, even though Lacy did not live at home, there was a stillness here. Kenny and I have both felt it. While Lacy was with us in body we were connected to him, a completeness that is missing now.
Lacy is gone from our sight, but our journey continues. We will be walking the same road, but we'll be walking through the "valley of the shadow of death" and grieving the loss of our warrior son. We can't see very far down this road, but we know that God has a plan and He has prepared the way.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff - they comfort me. (Psalm 23:4) Like a loving Shepherd, God will guide us as we walk.
For now, I'll answer the question in this way: Until I no longer have words to write or thoughts to share about our journey, I'll keep blogging.
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