This morning, I looked at the mirror and stared at myself longer than usual. I saw the lines under my eyes and above my eyebrows. I saw my tired eyes looking back at me. Suddenly, my gray hairs seemed so prominent.
In that precise moment of reflection, my mind suddenly experienced a clarity that has long evaded me. Then, Miguel’s face flashed in front of me. I realized I’ve been mourning long enough to add lines under those eyes and above those eyebrows. I’ve been crying too frequently to make those eyes look tired. I’ve hidden inside Miguel’s world for those three long years.
Yes, I must admit that I’ve been mourning the life that I could have had with Miguel. Outside, I wanted to believe that I have everything under control. I have to stay strong for my three other children and for my husband. I shouldn’t let anybody see the face that I always look at when I’m alone.
Yes, I’ve been mourning the life that I could have had with Miguel. I shouldn’t be because inspite of all the medical challenges he has, he is a beautiful boy. I shouldn’t be feeling depressed with his condition because there are other children who are more medically complex than he is. And yet, I grieve.
I feel guilty every time I give in to despair as though it is a sin to be depressed with my son’s disability. I know it’s not right to feel this way but, I guess, it’s the many confusing emotions that a parent of a special needs child have to go through.
I’ve been mourning the life Miguel could have had and the grief can be overwhelming most days.
This is one of those days.