Since I've worked with the special needs population for the past 13 years it obviously holds a tender place in my heart. I love the children I work with and genuinely enjoy my job. But since Lincoln had special needs, and I got to experience that life from an entirely different perspective- a mother's perspective- I have an even greater love for these amazingly sweet and special spirits.
I don't often see children who remind me of Lincoln. Jezelle has a quick eye to point out every single child with red hair that we pass by in the grocery store or at the mall, and although it makes my heart hurt too, when I see those sweet little red heads, it's a small reminder in comparison to other, and larger, reminders that make my heart lurch up into my throat. I rarely see kids who move like Lincoln did, or sound like he did. He was one heck of a unique little guy. And I wondered if being around children with special needs would be hard, after he passed away, but it's not because of how unique his special needs were.
However, every once in a while a child does come into the clinic who, for whatever reason, reminds me of Lincoln, or more so, how I imagine he would look at the age of 5 or at the age of 8. This happened while I was at work yesterday. I went out into the lobby and there was a little boy who was standing there with his mom and my heart skipped a beat. He was probably about 6 years old and was just learning how to walk. He was unstable but sure was working hard at doing it! He had orthotics on his feet just like Lincoln did, and had very low muscle tone. And for a moment I had a very clear picture of what Lincoln would have looked like at the age of 6. And although those moments are few and far between, when they happen they hurt. And I have to resist going over and picking up the child and letting them melt into my shoulder with their floppiness (because that would be weird if a stranger came over and just picked your kid up to hug them . . . ). And I have to be careful not to stare. That would be weird too.
As I watched this sweet little boy's mom yesterday I wondered how she felt to have this little boy and although I don't doubt that she loves him to pieces, I also had to resist walking over to her and whispering in her ear, "You are so so lucky to have your son with you right now. Just trust me. You are so lucky".
I love you Jo. I know awful feeling of your heart cracking and falling on the floor when you see someone who reminds you of your loved one. I think your message is so important for all of us, we need to remember to cherish enjoy each moment becasue no one knows which may be the last. And I love how even through your pain you are able to keep your sense of humor! Maybe next time you could lure him away with candy and sneak in a quick hug-not weird at all! (:
ReplyDeleteHi Joie- I just found the link to your blog and wanted to tell you that it touched my heart so much. Your words about your sweet Lincoln are beautiful. I think of you and your family often. Thanks for sharing. -Mallory
ReplyDeleteIn reading about Lincoln, my heart aches for you and your family. At the same time, it's obvious he brought so much joy and happiness, lessons and love to you all. He's got a bit of my heart - those eyes, that smile! - and his story is my wake-up call to stop worrying about my daughter's disability and instead, to cherish my time with her. Thank you for opening up about Lincoln and know that he continues to touch lives. We will be setting up a little pinwheel in our yard in Lincoln's memory.
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