Why Me? What Have I Done to Deserve This?

I went up to Loveland today.
Well, actually, I went further north to Wellington
because that's where a Prospective Host-Home Provider lives.
I'd gotten a call last week,
from Dean's case worker that there was a PHHP
who has offered to have Dean as a client.

After the two PHHP interviews this last week,
I just wasn't feeling super confident that we'd found
the right home for him,
but still,
because they're both in the Springs,
I fostered the belief that when it came time to make a decision,
I'd feel it in my heart and mind
that we'd know which to choose.

With the third offer,
I have a new choice in the mix.

First, the good things about the PHHP--
Dean knows their family already,
as two members of the family work at his day program.
He's stayed in their home before.
They're experienced--they've been doing this for 6 years.
They live out in the country
with chickens,
and a horse,
a pool and a hot tub,
they're an active family too--
and they're willing to make seeing Dean easier on us--
offering to meet us halfway between
their home and ours
and even driving Dean to see us.

We have never had that.
We've always been the ones to go and get him--
and so that right there,
makes the extra distance bearable.

The Mom is caring and responsible.
Her home was tidy and lovely.
She radiates goodness.
And she wants to provide a stable environment for my son.

Dean wouldn't have to alter any of his day programs--
his life would have little change.
But
he'll be further away from us.
And that makes me sad.

On the other hand,
we're to meet the other PHHP's down here tomorrow.
And the pros and cons of these two are the same:

The good thing:
they're here in the Springs.
Which means we'd get to see Dean more often.
Weekly.
The gamble is this:
they've never been HHPs before.
It's not even a "known" if they're going to like it.
One couple has never had children of their own yet.

The other is a smidge older than me,
have raised a housefull of kids,
are now empty-nesters,
altho the Mom of the household works
at another job,
so Dean's primary caregiver would be the Dad.

And I just don't know if he's realistically up for this.

But they've both prepared to take clients
and have said they'd love to host Dean.

But it's kinda like trying on shoes,
to some people,
as to whether or not they're going to like
being a HHP.

That's a gamble for us.
And I am so so not a gambler with Dean.

But I still feel calm that when a choice is made this week,
we'll make the best one for Dean and with Dean.
This time,
I'm going to give Dean a chance to choose for himself.
If you are inclined to pray,
I would surely appreciate your efforts in our behalf.
Thank you.

And here's a rambled thought I had on the way to Loveland today--
I think only my family would appreciate this,
but here goes:

When Dean was born,
I went to alot of Doctors with him
over the years.
At almost every initial consultation,
the question was asked:
"Was this a normal pregnancy?"
It was a normal pregnancy,
it felt normal, however stressed I was,
with two young children already,
a husband in school full-time and working,
and living far away from any family.
Still, I didn't have any pregnancy-related problems.

The only thing that was different in that pregnancy
was my indulgence for a Snickers bar
almost every day.

Snickers bars.
That was the only thing different
that I could think of.

When Dean was first diagnosed with cerebral palsy,
I begged with all the energy of my soul
for the tests to be wrong,
for a miraculous healing,
for my son to be made whole,
for forgiveness of whatever it was that
I had done
to have deserved such a tragedy.
My heart so heavy, I couldn't breathe,
my eyes welled over with tears,
I asked:
"Why  Lord? What have I done to deserve this journey?"

And for a long long time,
I felt like my son's handicap was a punishment
and in some very weird, immature way,
I blamed my selfish indulgence of Snickers
for his disabilities,
so willing was I to take responsibility.
However ludicrous it was,
I blamed myself.

That was a hard burden to bear
in my heart.
And it was unnecessary.
Eventually, I realized I had done nothing
wrong.

Dean's life is a gift to me.
He has taught me more about my self
and my Heavenly Father
and what is really important in this Life
than anything else could have in Dean's place.

I am honored to be his mother.
I am grateful to have received the blessing of raising
a special needs child.
My awareness and perspective of all phases of life
is deeper and has greater clarity
because of this journey with Dean.
He is my child-like teacher and his patience with me
is profound.
The question is the same these days as in the beginning:
"Lord, why me? What have I done to deserve this journey?"--
but it's from a totally different point in the path--
it's 25 years down the line
and my eyes, though full of tears,
are tears of gratitude.
Why me, Lord? What did I do to deserve so much love?
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Sometimes, when we don't understand our trials as gifts,
we try to make sense of them
in our own limited and very mortal way.
As we come to understand our Heavenly Father's love for us,
we know that the blessing of the Atonement of Christ,
wasn't just for our sins, but for our sorrows and trials too.
That understanding alone is a blessing.