It doesn’t matter that he’s never played before, neither has 3/4 of the team. It doesn’t even matter if the ball is coming at him at 70 miles per hour, he wants to catch. Turns out, he’s really good at catching. It doesn’t even matter that I have a thousand what if scenarios running through my head that put him in the hospital with my “I told you so’s” spilling out of my mouth. What matters is, he doesn’t want to be treated like a kid with a disability. He is a kid who wants to be a kid and unless I want to emotionally and spiritually cripple him with my own fears, I have to let him.
D has had epilepsy (ADNFLE) since he was six and is one of the bravest kids I know.
He’s fought epilepsy, (16 months seizure free and counting)
and he’s learning how to drive; standing behind a plate facing down 70 mph baseballs and runners twice his size ain’t nothin’ compared to that. So, I keep my what if’s to myself and let him be who he is, knowing that God doesn’t have grandchildren and that He holds my hands even when I’m watching my youngest play through my fingers in front of my face.