Recently, Robin and I traveled through the Baltimore airport. In a 30min span our emotions went on a massive roller coaster.
First, To families with adult children with special needs, this is an unfortunate unicorn moment. A bathroom with an adult changing station. When Robin and I saw the sign, we knew we had to go see it. If you have followed us for any amount of time, you know that we have had some struggles with being out in the community with no access (except a bathroom floor) to change our daughter.
What a gift to families that have to travel and need these essential resources. Hoping this continues to become common 
Then, a woman and a disabled adult woman sat in a wheelchair next to us while we waited for our flight. We recognized that it was likely a mother and daughter, but we couldn’t tell their ages.
As we stood there, we shifted around and smiled occasionally, waiting our turn to board the plane. It’s so strange how it feels to see another family like yours. The temptation is to run up and say, “Hey! We share something in common!” But you just never know what that other family is facing or if they even have the bandwidth to have that conversation. So we often just wait and see if there is an opportunity.
Eventually, the woman in the wheelchair laughed (clearly not verbal) and had the sweetest smile, just like our girl. We acknowledged her sweet smile and asked how often they traveled. The other woman said that they travel a lot less now that her husband (and the woman’s dad) had passed. She told us that her daughter was now 39. They were on their way to visit her other children.
I stood there under an avalanche of emotion. This beautiful woman, caring for her daughter, having lost her husband, pushing a wheelchair, carrying a backpack full of all the needed supplies to care for her daughter.
My heart was flooded with compassion and an acute awareness of the weight she carries. Then, like a second wave of an avalanche, the questions came: What if Kennady lives that long? What will our life look like? How can we possibly carry this weight for another 15 years?
The mother and daughter boarded the plane ahead of us, and the tears began to fall. It took everything in me not to start sobbing.
So many emotions. The “what ifs,” “how can we,” “I don’t want to,” “it’s just so much.” “So many things to manage,” “so many inconveniences,” “so little privacy.” Honestly, the list could go on. I saw us in them. My heart hurt and held joy for them, just like it does for us.
It’s never lost on me how all of these questions, if not answered with faith—faith that God is holding us, that He alone will provide for each moment—can overwhelm the soul.
If I don’t respond with my eyes and heart anchored in Him, that avalanche of “what ifs” will indeed crush me.
He is the only reason I am not afraid of the future, but instead can look ahead with peace.
The questions will continue to come, but I am learning to hold them with compassion and hand them to Him.
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Erica
What People are Saying