Someone wise says that life is like a spiral staircase. We just keep coming around to the same problems, but each time we are closer to the destination.
That feels very real to me today.
Rhese was referred for speech services today. They truly do not think it is autism like Evan. Yet, we are playing catch up once again.
I remember when Evan was referred for speech. He had no words and he was much younger than Rhese is now. If you told me then that he would never speak, I would not have believed it. I was optimistic and felt like the therapy would help.
I feel that way again.
I’m also feeling the foreboding that is natural with doing something a second time. I feel like I should be worried. Perhaps, deep down, I am underneath. Perhaps I was worried deep down, underneath with Evan. Perhaps all of the optimism is just a sham. A way of coping? No. A way of not feeling? Probably.
How do I crawl beneath my façade? How do I find what’s really inside?
Inside I worry that Rhese has ADHD so badly that he is missing things already. I worry that maybe he won’t start kindergarten like a normal boy. I worry that he will be categorized as the ‘rambunctious’ or ‘bad’ boy. I worry.
I am sad.
I am sad that I have to worry again at all. That, for just this once, I could have smooth sailing. I’ve done all the worrying a soul can do.
And so all I have is low-grade fever of sadness and the words of The Beatles song to comfort me….
Let it be.