Walking the Line

Photo Credit: Jack Honaker, age 4.
Kodak Printomatic.

All day is a balance between letting go and holding onto breath, always waiting on the other shoe to drop.

Hope is the mantra on repeat. Everything is going to be ok and it’s all under control, when actually, nothing is normal and it never will be again.

Days are spent celebrating both big and small hard-earned victories while privately mourning the milestones that, by typical standards, should have happened by now. At night, there’s research and conversation, wondering aloud about what life might be like.   

Living in the moment and being thankful for what is happening right now is hard to do when there is so much to prepare for in a future that could include anything. All the while, looking forward to the possibilities ahead that are contaminated with reminders of what could have been.

As others grow up and run past her, I watch her hair blow by in their wake. She stands still and stares at them in awe while my stomach turns and I wonder how I am supposed to explain it to her when she finally finds the words to ask.

I know that always second guessing and wondering “what if” is making me crazy. It all happens simultaneously though. A glimmer of hope knocked around by fear is all together just one thought. They go hand in hand, bonded.

My husband tells me that as long as the kids know they are loved, that’s all that matters. But is that really enough?

What is important to this one? What does she want?

How do I stay out of her way? Can I give her the world without handing it to her?

For more of Jack’s candid photos and posts from Typically not Typical, sign up here for email delivery.


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