Hi Redeemer MOPS moms!
Some of you don't know me, so I'll start by introducing myself. My name is Beth Williamson. My husband is Andy, and our children are Silas, 4 1/2, and Nora, 1 1/2. I was part of your group for the last three years and planned to return this year to work on the Publicity team with the very talented Mary and Cheryl; however, it seems that God had other plans for us. Over the summer, we felt led to move from the Indianapolis area, where we had lived all our lives, to Raleigh, NC, a place I had never even visited. Mary suggested that it might be interesting if I write occasional blog posts about what it's like to make a major move with a family. Before I get into all of that, though, I want to share something with you that has a tremendous impact on the choices Andy and I make, including our decision to move. Our son is autistic. Although he is high-functioning, we still have to think about things the average family doesn't. We don't just need good schools; we need good special education services. We don't just need health insurance; we need insurance that will pay for autism therapies. We don't just need new friends; we need friends who will be patient with Silas and expect the same from their own children. The list goes on and on, but it's all part of the "beautiful mess" that is our unique parenting experience. So, for now, I would like to leave you with an essay by children's writer Emily Kingsley that has nothing to do with moving but definitely describes where I am.
WELCOME TO HOLLAND
by Emily Perl KingsleyI am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."
"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."
But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandt.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.
But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.