Party Called on Account of Pain by Lori Miller Fox

We all have our own ways of dealing with pain.  Grief is a process. For some it is finite, for others ongoing.  Here are some of mine.

I’m not much of a party goer or planner, but soon after my son was born, I decided to throw a huge, glorious party. The biggest, baddest, most gut-wrenching pity party ever. The menu was going to be anger with a side of guilt. The attire was sack cloth and ashes.  Any rose-colored glasses were to be left at the door. And of course the entertainment would bring you to tears.

The invitation read BYOP--Bring Your Own Pain. And anybody who blamed anybody would be there. The house was decorated with dried-out flowers and deflated balloons. The music was silent and the atmosphere somber. The rhythm of panic was the primary beat.

The guest list was full, but only the courageous showed up. I sent an engraved invitation to my son’s Planned Future, but that invitation got lost in the mail.  Change in Direction came, and as always had so many interesting things to say.  Depression came and went, stopping frequently at the buffet. Others’ Expectations talked to everyone, I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. It brought a gift I never liked, but can’t to this day, seem to get rid of. Loss, as always, came early, and brought some pictures I reluctantly look at from time to time. Attainable Dreams, Different Paths and New Options showed up without being invited, but once they introduced themselves, they became my most treasured companions, never betraying my trust, even though I have often misjudged them.

Old friends came, but only the true ones stayed.  The others couldn’t leave fast enough.  Some snuck away.  Some didn’t see the door hit them on the way out. Either way, the house seemed fuller without them. 

Fear knocked at the door, sometimes softly, sometimes with a bang that made the house tremble, but Unseen Courage and Support  refused to give him entry. Throughout the night, Pain and Grief tried to evoke conversation, but  Love and Strength refused to let me hear. Encouragement whispered, so gently, at first it went unnoticed.  I invited Pity, but luckily he had many previous engagements.

Hope showed up...late, but stayed a while and did promise to come again. I regret not inviting Gratitude but I wasn’t yet ready to make his acquaintance.

The night got long, I grew weary and the guests moved on. But through the years, I hosted many small, more intimate parties with Personal Empowerment,  Unconditional Love and  Forgiveness as the guests of honor.

In these last few years, I’ve toyed with throwing a sort of coming out party for Acceptance, Enlightenment, Inner Strength and New Horizons. I’ll let you know when. All but Dream Stealers and Toxic Visionaries are welcome.

Comments

[Susan Wolf]

Lori,
Seeing life through your eyes is always inspiring. You have great strength and will never know how many people derive strength through your words.

[Patricia Felvey]

Lori,
Your perspective on party life is amazing! Although parents with special needs children come from all kinds of ecomonic and social backgrounds, it would seem the guests at these parties would be tired by now. Unfortunetly,not true. Your writings are incredible and a delight to read.

[Sandy Alperstein]

Lori, this is truly an amazing piece of writing! It brings into focus so many of the emotions surrounding parents of kids with disabilities! Bravo, and thanks for verbalizing what so many of us have felt over the years!

[Charmaine Pietersen]

As a teacher of learners with barriers, I thank you for reminding me time and time again of my purpose in life. Reading the pain, joy, frustration and hope in your words keeps me humble. God bless!