What a beautiful spring day today. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, the smell of fresh cut grass and flowering bushes are in the air. It is an almost-perfect day. Almost. In another realm this would be perfect because Amber would be a healthy six and a half year old with no cares in the world during this picturesque spring day. But it’s different now. Our lives are forever different. It’s going to take a lot to hopefully, eventually, get back to a somewhat perfect time in our lives. Where maybe, hopefully, I can really take in this beautiful flawless day with a relief that Amber’s battle is won, instead of what’s looming in the distance. It hasn’t been simple thus far nor will it be going forward. I know that, Matt knows that, and you know that. I also know sometimes Amber feels that way too. Like today —
Tonight at dinner Amber started to cry. “I don’t like my life. I wish I could just be back to normal again. I wish I could just do things on my own. I wish I could walk. I wish I could run. I wish I could use the potty by myself . . .”
Tough words coming from a six and a half year old. True words coming from a six and a half year old. I suppose even Super Amber Grace can feel down sometimes too. All we can do is reassure her that she will get there and that she’s come so far already. But that’s hard for a little one to comprehend. She doesn’t see the progress as it’s happening, she just wants the end result — which I can’t blame her. I am still in awe at her perseverance. I personally would have checked out (mentally) months ago. Sometimes, even for myself, it feels good to let it all out, and I believe that is what Amber had to do tonight. So with some positive encouragement, a hug, a kiss, and an ice cream sandwich, she was already moving on . . .