I find that I get peace in 6 month increments. I get those blissful 6 months in between Lily's MRIs to live like a normal person--those people I see at the grocery store or at the mall or out to dinner. Those people who are certain in their hearts that their children will survive and outlive them. Those normal people who have never seen or heard the things I've seen or heard--those normal people who can watch a movie with a sick or dying or distressed child and not completely freak out. Those normal people who seem to get peace in limitless increments--or so I assume--because isn't it normal to have unlimited peace just waiting for you?
The thing with normal is, I don't know what normal is. Is normal a messy house or a clean house? Is normal lying awake at night worrying about your kids? Is normal praying and thanking and raging and begging God all at once? Is normal knowing dark, horrible things? Is it normal to want to give your child everything all at once, in case a future does not come? Is it normal to weep when you see a disabled child, one who is in a wheel chair and can't walk or speak and know that you were just millimeters from pushing your own child in that chair? What is normal? It has been so long without normal, that I just can't quite put my finger on it.