Sunday, November 21, 2010

The Black Hole

Ezra during a visit with Art in the hospital

I’m reading a report from a development optometrist Ezra saw last week. It’s a second opinion.

I didn’t read the first report. I tried to..

but it was too hard.

Both reports highlight some of the things Ezra is struggling with in school.

It spells out several areas he needs help in, like the need to work with reading specialist.

It tells me what the assessment people at our local public school are echoing even though they haven’t finished their assessments yet.

It says that Ezra needs substantial help in reading and writing.

This report is easy to read


straight forward in it’s recognition of his issues and the recommendation and how they can help him.

And I’m sitting here,

in this damn coffee shop,

snot and tears running down my face,

feeling overwhelmed.

Again, the floor beneath me is farther away than it was just moments ago.

And I'm lonely

and scared and

feel just horrible,

Absolutely horrible.

It’s not that I miss Art that is making me cry.

It’s that my son is struggling

And it is on me to help him,

me to arrange the appointments,

to enlist his siblings in helping,

to send submit the docutmention to the insurance company to get the measly $50 that will help cover the $150 per session cost.

And I so need someone else here.

Someone else who is invested in Ezra, in me

to help sort through all of this,

to remind me that we will be ok and that

even though this is overwhelming now, it will not always be so.

It’s in moments like this that I see that 1 year and 7 months is

not as far away as I wish it was.

It’s in moments like this the big fat fucking whole that I have so nicely covered over with white gauze pours its blackness out and onto the kitchen floor.

My baby boy has some kind of learning difference that requires

me to stand up, to fight for him, to take on, get, schedule, oversee his educational well being


I don’t know if I have

the strength.

I’m crying because this ring that I wear to remind me of everything what Art and I had

Reminds me today of what I am missing.

Im crying because death is just so fundamentally sad and no matter

how much I eat or not,

drink or not

laugh or not

move on or not

Ezra’s father is never coming back

And I stand here,

In the middle of that big fat fucking loss

in this darkness and again, I feel lost.


  1. Your post broke my heart this morning. I've had many moments like those when I felt like I just couldn't handle whatever was happening. Your logical mind knows you can (and will) handle whatever comes up, but it's so damn hard.

    You (and Ezra) are in my thoughts and prayers. You've helped me so many times with your amazing and positive posts. I rarely miss a day of reading the blog entries here as I need the words of encouragement when navigating this storm and sometimes I need to hear the struggles too even though I hate it that you feel that way. It just makes it more "ok" when I do it.

    Thanks so much for sharing this even though I'm sure that's not easy either.


  2. I've been reading these blogs almost everyday since I discovered this site. I became a widow on 10/13/10. Unlucky 13. I too have young children and know how overwhelming it is. I work at a school and last year the 1st graders I started with graduated to middle school. I was so proud watching them all. Several had struggled with serious learning disabilities and now they are readers! It's not easy but Ezra will do it too. Be proud you are an amazing woman and your blog is a wonderful gift to me. thank you

  3. Kim, Your post really touched me. I'm so sorry for what you're going through, and so understand the feeling of desperately needing support and input from the person who knows and loves your son every bit as much as you. Sending you a big hug.

  4. I know what it feels like to fight for your kids. I had children from a previous marriage and they were both diagnosed with learning disabilities. Later on, they both had a "light" come on, and did very well in school. I am sure your son will achieve everything he desires. Right now he must be feeling the loss and not sure how to move forward. Assure him and yourself that even though you will not "get over" it, you will get through it. I lost my husband Greg 3 1/2 years ago. Trust me. It does get better and you will be one hell of a strong woman. Sending a hug your way.

  5. Thank you for your post, Kim. Also for all the responses - Wow I needed this today! It helped me more than you could ever know. I am struggling with my 19 yr. old college student son who is struggling with missing his Dad and trying to grow up. I thought it would be easier with an older kid, but there are times they are still simply just our little boys...and those same times I get so overwhelmed I just want to be back home under my own parents' wing of safety, too. It's so scary sometimes and I, too, know we will all make it, but it's so hard when we are in the moment. Please take care. I'm praying for all of us.

  6. Kim, This realization hit me a day ago or so, when I was having a real power struggle with my "easy" daughter, the other one has alwys been difficult. But as I was struggling with her, I keep thinking there is no one to back me up here, to tell me I am doing the right thing! And I must do this for the rest of her life ot mine! But then I thought , I can only do my best with love. Your child will know this. I also work at a school, having even one parent who cares about how her child does will make all of the difference in the services he gets- even if it is not perfect. Yet as I say this I also know how you feel overwhelmed and like you just do not have the energy to do it! I have felt that way too. I cry every other day like you, because of it! It will be there when you need it, even if it doesn;t feel that way at the time. I know on some level you know this too. But you also need to remember to do more for yourself, we all have to make this a priority, because our kids need us, but we need to do thing for our own mental health and well being!

  7. Kim, I have no children at home but what I miss is sharing the achievements of our son with the only other person who has an interest as only a parent can.

    Regarding the development optometrist: It may take a while and it's a big investment of time as well as money, and it will all fall on you, but in the end, your son will succeed. A family friend has a son who *had* the same issues (reading, writing,). After 18 months, he is fine. He is reading and writing and comprehending at grade level (grade 5). Good luck!