Highs are highs and lows are lows

Each day that I have a meeting in our conference room at work, I see it...  Sometimes it is through pollen covered windows, or as of lately, with snow that covers the circular driveway and the parking lot.  Sometimes I can even make out the families making their way to and from the building.  I wonder what they are thinking, why they are going inside and if their heart breaks a little each time the automatic sliding doors open and close.  And as I stand in my office staring out the window at a sight I can see every single day, I wonder, what would life be like without this building in our lives? 

This building is Kluge.

Of course, it is not the building itself that is terrifying, it is the fact that so many children are going in and out each day.  It is the fact that Olivia is not the only one on this journey, that sadly other children face a difficult road each day, some with more challenges and some with far less.  It is a place I fear, a place that pains me to see each day, but the truth is, it is also a place that fills me with hope.

I was recently speaking with a friend about the hardships that come along with battling a developmental delay and one thing that stands out to me about that conversation is that the highs are highs and the lows are lows.  On amazing days, where Olivia has captured a long awaited milestone, this building looks like an inviting oasis, welcoming and warm.  On those days I smile as I spot this building out of the corner of my eye, knowing that Olivia will one day conquer the world and her developmental delays.

I can stand in my crib with Mommy's help!

Standing with Mimi

And then there are the days where I watch my daughter struggle to do the same activities as a child much younger than her can easily do.  These are the days where I notice that only having the ability to use one hand makes simple tasks much more challenging, if not impossible.  When these lows rumble through my head, it is like a dark cloud has surrounded the grounds and sometimes I half expect thunder and lighting to erupt only over the building as it would in a cartoon.

But I guess that is how life is in general, good and bad, highs and lows.  I have met people that seem happy every second of the day, but I would be willing to bet at times their smile hides a secret sadness or a challenge that is not easily fixed.  I like to think that God gives us the lows so we know exactly when we hit a high, making it a moment in time that will last forever in our mind.  It is the highs that help to slowly erase the challenging times that burn in the corners of our mind like an old photograph.  But just like a picture (not the digital kind), these memories do fade away and with time become grainy, blurry and eventually, with plenty of highs, the good can begin to outweigh the bad.

So as it turns out, this building is just a building.  This building isn't the reason for Olivia's challenges.  This building didn't actually do anything to Olivia.  But why is it that my feelings for this building ebb and flow like the tides of the ocean?  I guess it is that the building is tangible.  I can look at it, I can see it, I can place blame, I can find hope in the doctors inside.  But this building will not be the reason Olivia succeeds, those inside the building will only assist in this journey, just as my husband and I can only assist.  The journey is truly Olivia's.  The highs and the lows, they are Olivia's.  And this building, is just a building.  So for now, I am going to focus on the highs Olivia creates with simply her gregarious and adorable laugh (among a million other things) and leave the dark clouds only for truly rainy days.