Tonight is one of “those” nights.
Reality sets in, and I realize that the effects of my son’s stroke will never go away. He is a little boy who had a stroke. He will also be a teenager, adult, and little old man who had a stroke. Monkey’s stroke will always remain, no matter how much I love him and hate it.
As ridiculous as it may sound, I sometimes let myself forget that. I get so wrapped up in the therapies, doctor appointments, lesson plans, recreational activities, and everything else that is supposed to help Monkey that I start to think in the back of my brain that he will one day be cured. Then, without warning, the light snaps on again and I have nowhere to look but at the truth.
We will keep chugging along and doing our best. Monkey will get where he gets when he gets there, and that’s all we can expect.
A stiff drink would help on nights like these if I were a drinking woman, but I’m not. I’ll settle for sweet dreams and positive energy instead.