As I left my office building today, the wind was blowing. Not just a slight breeze, but a real guster. My hair kept covering my eyes, forcing me to readjust my load to clear them so I could see my way. As luck would have it, I had parked quite a bit farther from the entrance than normal this morning, which only extended my path. As I made my way to my car, I found not only was my view compromised, I was actually fighting against the wind just to walk, as I was headed directly into it. It just so happened that also, at that moment, I was anxiously hurrying to pick up my daughter due to an issue at her day care. I tried to walk rapidly, but every step I took into that damn wind seemed more and more arduous, like I was fighting against everything just to reach my goal. My goal of getting to my car, getting out of that parking lot, getting to my daughter.
Honestly, most of this week has felt like that; like walking into the wind. For the most part, my husband and I often count our blessings when it comes to our daughter. We have markedly few complaints; she is healthy, brilliant, and thriving. But we have had a particular set of challenges this year we’ve been working on improving with her that occasionally rear their head. And when they do, they leave me feeling – as a mother – short-handed, confused, deficient and heart-broken. Like that wind is relentlessly battering against all of us as we fruitlessly try to walk directly in its path, once again.
I know, overall, we are making progress. I can see it in her, in us. I know the wind does not blow all the time. And I will try to remind myself that during those times it is gusting, and we are staggering against it, those are the moments we are becoming stronger; we are learning to weather it, together. And we will, eventually, reach our destination; as blustery a path as it may be. We just have to keep moving forward, even if it is into the wind.