The children that God had entrusted to me carry their unique burdens. They bear the weight of a thousand generations placed upon them. Some of whom, they have never met before, nor have I.
My children are the descendants of the Viking warriors; in whom which their blood runs thick. My children carry the fighter spirit of the Revolutionary soldier and the wonder of the California Gold Rush. My children are the proud great-grandsons of a fighter on D-Day, and a grandfather who weathered the storms of the farmers in the 80's.
My children face first-hand, the unexpected loss of Fragile X; both within themselves and outside of them. My sons are resilient.
I hope, as any mother does, that my sons find ways to adapt; that they find their place in this world. I hope that this life isn't too harsh for them and that those that surround them understand what they are going through.
Life is a journey, and at this point we're just beginning ours. I pray that they find the strength of the goodness that runs through their blood and that they see the blessings in the mundane little things.
I hope that one day, they can look back on our journey and hold their children tight and thank God for the hardships that they have faced.
If they can do that, with a heart filled with happiness, they will be okay.
