#cryinginthecar

MH

*Not our actual car - we have a later model

In 2013 I went to the launch of a book called Crying in the car: reflections on life and motherhood. The author, Karen Andrews, told us that the book’s title referred to an episode in which she broke down in tears in her car after dropping her children off at school. As she collected herself, she looked out the window and saw three other women engaged in exactly the same activity – crying in their cars. I often think of that story when I’m returning from the school drop-off or pick-up, a lump the size of an avocado in my throat, willing the tears to stay put as I navigate Bell Street. 

Karen’s book launch also punctuated the week in which we received an official diagnosis for our child. I think my child is absolutely extraordinary, fascinating, and would not change her in a single way. Her talents blow my mind. I NEVER cry in my car over who she is, but rather from the tiny slashes of hurt inflicted by those in her realm.