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A Visit From My Mommy

March 28, 2013

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I’ve been quiet because my mom came into town.   I was trying to focus on soaking up the time with her.  Between the weather being cold and rainy while she was here, we didn’t have many opportunities to really do very much.  So lots of time was spent in the play room doing puzzles.

 

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And sliding baby Thad.  Baby Thad actually slide himself down my leg today.  I am no Granny, that’s for sure. He’s certainly have withdrawal from all the attention lavished on him while she was here.

 

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We took advantage of our Atlanta Botanical Gardens pass to go tour the garden on one nice day.  St. Patty’s, are you liking all the green?  They are a good looking bunch, right?

 

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The bulbs were all in bloom and the kids had a great time running around the children’s portion of the garden.

 

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And then all too quickly is was time for a good bye dinner.

 

I was never good at geography as a kid.  I couldn’t wrap my mind around miles and places across the ocean.   It wasn’t until I left my family a year ago and drove every mile that separates that I can say I truly understand the distance now.  The distance from Georgia to Oklahoma is the length of my broken heart.   Autism has effected our family a lot. But this is one of the most painful.  The one I can never get over or move on from or learn to accept.   Not being able to see my mom everyday like I used to.  Watching her play with the kids like she had before just killed me.  Knowing she was there at each one of their births.  She watched them come into this world and take their first breaths, heard their first cries, loved them the instant I did.  No one can replace the support of their mother.  I certainly haven’t been able to.  Thank God for Skype and facebook chat.  We have tried to remain connected as possible.  But still. I miss her everyday.  I cried about her leaving before she even left and everyday since.  And I know far too many families have faced this same thing while searching out help for their children.  It is a sad reality.

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