Acceptance came from a long haired guitarist with no arms.

I don’t know what it was about today- maybe because it’s Christmas Eve and it’s always the time that I miss my dad the most, maybe it’s because I’ve been so overwhelmed with gratitude for the amazing blessings in my life or maybe it’s because I’m pregnant with twins- but I’ve been crazy emotional. Whatever the reason, it set me up for what was going to happen today.

It’s amazing how answers come in the most bizarre ways.

Today we made it back to my in-laws house where I went to work starting dinner so we can eat when Lance’s parents get back from Las Vegas. Lance took the kids to play at Luke and Missy’s so I was alone. I quickly changed the channel from Disney to ANYTHING ELSE and came upon a show that was called “Autism X 6”. I set it to record and a little while later came back to it. The problem was, Discovery Health had their listings wrong. What I was left with was stories about people with no arms. I was mad. What was I supposed to do with this? There was nothing on- and nothing else recorded that wasn’t sports or from the lifetime channel. So I turned it up as I was making pies and cleaning potatoes. It chronicled the lives of three people who were born without arms. The one that struck me was this middle age rocker with long hair, a single parent to three daughters and no arms.

I should stop here and back up. Acceptance. What a funny thing it is. It’s talked about so much in psychology, in self-help books and in forums. It’s something I thought people came to when they had cancer, came to the end of their lives or when you lost someone you love, etc. I did NOT think that I would EVER EVER accept that Casey had autism. I thought it was a battle that’s ever changing, but not one that I’d ever really be totally okay with. How could I be?

And then it came. Just a simple conversation between one no armed person to another. The rocker, Mark, was talking to a little girl who wanted to learn how to play the guitar with her feet, as her arms were barely there and not very functional. The little girls asked him, “Did kids make fun of you and say mean things?” and he said, “Kids make fun of other kids for everything. For being too fat or too skinny. For not having any arms. But this is the way I’m supposed to be, it’s the way you are supposed to be.”

I know it sounds so simple. But then it hit me so hard. This is the way Casey is supposed to be. It’s not anyone’s fault. My endless searching for the ‘why’ doesn’t matter as much now. It’s not anyone’s fault- and something I needed to feel- that it’s not MY fault. This is the way it’s supposed to be. GOD made Casey this way. He’s not a mistake. He’s amazing.

And there it is. Acceptance.

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