Feeling Seen in Our Struggles

We spent the last two weekends in Hocking Hills with dear friends. These trips were so great, and after a lot of reflection on what made them so special, I think it all boils down to acceptance.

Our friends set these weekends aside months in advance and traveled from Texas and Washington DC to see us. They met us where we were both in location and in what our day-to-day looks like.

That alone is a tremendous gift—especially because the way we live is so different from other families that inviting others into our world can sometimes feel like we are asking too much.

These weekends, I asked our friends to sit with my children while they are on their screens most of the time as Soraya is too tired to do much else.

I asked them to travel to a beautiful location and barely leave the house.

I asked them to be quiet at 6:30 PM so Soraya could go to bed.

I asked them to be there with Yasmeen and Leena in their heartache and sadness.

I asked them to sit with us as we drew up medication, did Soraya’s care, and listened as she talked about her anxiety, pain, and the thoughts of her dying sooner almost every minute of the day.

No matter what I asked of them, my friends and their children didn’t turn away. They settled in, bravely asking questions and inquiring about the best way to respond to Soraya’s complaints of pain, and sat with us through all of it.

I don’t know many people who would travel so far without having a jam-packed itinerary full of fun for their family, no less to willingly enter a world of anticipatory grief. This is love.

Cheryl Strayed once wrote, “Acceptance is a small, quiet room.” I am so grateful to have such great friends to join us in ours. They see our joy and the unrelenting challenges that come our way. I am most grateful for their honesty about noticing Soraya’s decline since they saw her last and the increased heaviness all around. It helps us feel seen in our struggles.

So fitting that we ended our time with Sarah Peterson and family with a rainbow despite there not being any rain 🌈❤️

Previous
Previous

Anticipatory Grief at a Child’s Memorial Service

Next
Next

Caring for Soraya: Our Nighttime Routine