The Tightrope of Special Needs Families

The Tightrope of Special Needs Families


We walk an invisible line, not just a thin line scrawled in chalk on broken concrete, but a line constructed of the finest cord, strong and high, far above the trees. It is the tightrope of which dictates the minds of special needs families or at least, my own. It is the tightrope of which one must walk on ever so gingerly, balancing the tender emotions of hope and acceptance.

Some days the winds blow strong and steady and others are filled with stagnant air and offshoots of hot gusts. Rogue thunderstorms frequently circumvent and the tightrope ebbs and flows, shakes and flexes and on those types of days, my hope seems to flounder and the outside world beckons my acceptance with its’ gusts. I feel led to drink in my acceptance of Amos and the swaying reminds me that he is wonderful, perfectly perfect and I am left wondering of what do I hope?

Some days the rope stretches nice and tight, even and level, never a buckle of resistance and on those days, I gather strength and courage and plow through acceptance in a search of hope, the hope that is just within reach, on the horizon or just on the other side. The other side of what, I wonder though? What do I hope? Is it for acceptance or for the boy whose future seems so unsure?

We all walk the tightrope of life, don’t we? Every single one of us, walk and balance or try to, and we stumble and fall and we rise up again and again. We accept our fate as we hope for the best and the best is what we have today, in this moment, in this hour, in the families we call our own. Some of us have children and some of us do not. Some of us have parents and some of us do not. We all have struggles and some of us have fallen so very very far, clinging for hope in a parachute that never opened. Is that where the acceptance occurs? When all seems lost?

Perhaps. I shall walk my tightrope of life and I will hope for acceptance and accept the gift of hope, perhaps both of them will make the traveling all the more lovely and the days will not be blended together but can be counted, each and everyone. I will cling to my tight rope always.

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