This, Right Here, is Special

I write this entry to my daughter. She took the stage yesterday at a dance competition for the first time in over a year. Her 2nd competition ever. Her first solo. She did it feeling anxious, dizzy and nauseous (her meds and illness at play on top of your typical nerves before any competition)…but she also did it with courage, determination and Grace (and I mean both elegance and her dear friend, Grace).

To My Daughter,

I reflect back to September and our time in the hospital. How scared (terrified) and confused we all were. What was happening? Who could help? Why was no one helping…or fast enough? I remember the terror in your eyes - a look I had never seen before…gut wrenching for a parent. I remember feeling helpless and mad at the world. Why my daughter? And why you…you are such a beautiful soul. I remember having conversations about restraining you to the bed or feasibly having to sedate you. I remember calling everyone I knew begging for help. You had told us you wanted to die. Not because you did not like your life, but because you did not want to live “this way”. We promised to “make it better”. A promise your dad and I hoped we could keep.

We slowly moved forward…very slowly. Day-by-day. We took some right turns and I think we may have taken some wrong turns, But we learned. We learned about you, we learned about your illness, we learned how to be a support system and stronger for each other. We cried a lot. We also laughed a lot and reflected on our blessings. But one thing that always amazed me…you got up the next day determined to get better…even though you felt awful. Your dad always says the one certain we have every day…”the sun always comes up”. We clung to this…praying the next day would bring us a miracle or a sense of peace and calm during times when your panic was at its worst.

Never in my life have I been more proud of something or someone. Never. You took the stage and looked so beautiful. And although, yes, you were donned in a lot of glitz in glam, that is not what was beautiful. For the first time in over six months I saw “you”. I saw your light. Your eyes danced and you were all smiles. You were truly happy and at peace on that stage. I cried.

I will never forget those 2 mins and 14 seconds…never. You sparkled in every way. I am so so proud of you! You have shown me what courage truly is and I could not be more grateful for this special and powerful bit of knowledge. I hope you hold onto that moment on the stage and cherish it. It will be your super power…a power you can use in the future when extra courage and faith is needed. But like any hero with a super power I hope you share it with others and use it only for good. Remember to thank and appreciate all those that help you be “super”.

I know we would not be where we are today without grandparents/family/friends, Bella, Kim, Paula, Kelsey, Kelly, Wendy, Amanda, Grace, Kristina, Bria, Rachel, Bob, Jennifer, Ben, Mary, Michelle, Stephanie, Danielle, Danny, Ellie, and Melissa. Honey, I hope you realize how blessed you are. Not because of the material things you own or the trophy that now sits in your bedroom, but because of the 100s of people that loved and supported you these past six months. This group got you from a hospital bed to the stage. They held your hand, laughed with you, cried with you and never gave up. And I know they will continue to prop you up as your journey continues…my simple ask of you…remember to support and love them as much as they love you.

I always thought and hoped you could get on that stage yesterday. I think you always knew you could…you needed to show me. Now we both know you can. Go be awesome!!

Love, Mom