and just like that, she's off.
there was a time when i thought of course she'll leave home. every one leaves home. it's normal. it's what happens. what people do. they finish high school, they go to college. they start their own life.
then not-normal became our normal. and i wrote about it for years. and i wondered what our future would look like, and by future i usually meant next week because any further was terrifying. and breathing the thought of her not leaving home, not going to college, felt like giving up on my baby and i wasn't going to do that, not in a million years.
but then not-normal began to feel normal, and i wrote about that for years. it took a while to fit into new skin but it happened slowly, when i wasn't looking. what mattered shifted and looking far ahead became really important and next week became pretty predictable, and not leaving home became probable, and college faded far away and letting those things go changed from giving up on her to being okay with where she is and who she is and supporting her through her rocky life road.
in the middle of all that, i had to step way outside of myself and see that she is her own- not an extension or reflection of me. she is fearfully and absolutely wonderfully made, a perfect unique creation, like no one else i know. in the middle of all of it i began to see the complete privilege of loving her and knowing her, poking out of the pain and challenge of parenting her and her autism.
i've watched as her friends since birth have gone on to college, after years of hitting milestones that my zoe didn't reach. i've watched as her own siblings have lapped her. but zoe has her own path, her own place.
i didn't think this day would come. i really didn't.
yesterday i got her ready for dorm life. i packed her bags and bought toiletries and a shower tote and washed new sheets and towels. today we dropped her off at her residential program. it's not college, it's not even high school. it's better. it's where she needs to be to learn the skills she needs to learn, in an environment that can support her in the ways she needs to be supported. i'm so excited for her. the best part is, she is excited.
i've learned to be very okay with what is and with not knowing what is next. and i'm deeply grateful for the provision of where we are now. i thank God for opening doors for zoe, for making a way when there didn't seem to be a way. for hearing the literally cries of my mother heart in a bathtub in uganda a year and a half ago, wondering what we could possibly do to help her. cries that were answered. the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God!
these past few days my mind has been full of pictures and stories of zoe's years, and my heart has been moved with tears and aches by the deep deep love of God and others who have cared for zoe and our family over the years. who have walked through the messes and the victories.
this moment, this day, this is a victory for zoe!



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