I always imagine – if my dining table could talk.. the
stories.. endless talks, discussion, anger, happiness, frustration it has seen
it all. Stories of childhood, memories
of youth and smiles of experience. At the same time, it has witnessed the parenting
in all form, size and shape and not to mention the motherhood of various race, ethnicity
and age and class.
I am very fortunate to have met wonderful people in my life.
I have learnt a lot from many of them and I think I too have spread happiness
in their life in some way.
Every time we host someone or meet someone we learnt a great
deal of human behavior and marvel how things work differently with different
people. Some of us deal with grief openly some of us just take it in and some
of us just runaway and not deal with it.
I have seen many moms with special need children and their
way of dealing with their disappointment. Many of them are runner, some dance,
some meditate, exercise is must for many of them. Moms come in many forms as
poet, singers and painters, I cook, party and always doing something. We all
have our ways.. I have wonderful friends with neuro typical kids but at the
same time I enjoy company of other special moms. But some of the moms who have
kids with needs don’t want to hang out with other special moms. May be its just
a cruel reminder of their own reality or afraid to face the realization of their
own fears or seeing their own pain on someone else’s face? It is hard to decide
or choose what is better.
Some people want to feel a part of a larger group going
through similar circumstances and some people want to do it privately. But whatever
it is there is no way around it. We all have be that mom one way or another. When
we are around people who are our own we let our guards down and there we ALL
are – exactly the same- dreamer but worried, hopeful but sad and just want someone
to hold us tight and hug and say its all turnout to be OK, your ok, not anyone
else’s.. how do I know? Because I have been there before..
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