I’m going to answer those questions the best I can, while I still can. And no matter what anyone says, no matter how much it hurts or how personally I take it, I do know that I am doing the right thing. For her and for me.

But I can’t guarantee my living. I am Brielle’s mom and sole guardian and I would do anything for her, but life is a gift that doesn’t come with a firm end date.

What if I died and nothing was set up for Brielle? Who would take care of her? Where would she go? What would she do?

As if I was kicking her out because I couldn’t handle it any more.

I would care for Brielle at home for many more years. I would give up the sleep, the vacations, the sitting down, if I knew for sure I would be there for all of those years to come.

A few weeks ago, when I told someone about Brielle’s pending move, they said something that bugged me. I know they didn’t mean any harm. They had no idea how sensitive I can be. But when I told them Bree was moving into a group home, they asked me if she had become too much to handle at home.

As I stood in the middle of the house, I could picture Brielle in it, her home, comfortable and happy.

I’m happy for her. I really am.

Everything will be OK. I know it.

But that doesn’t erase the ache in my heart.

Tons of open space for her to run back and forth like she likes to do. Girls close to her age for roommates. A big living room with comfy couches. Her own bedroom we could decorate with her own TV and space to be alone. A big backyard. A nice neighborhood in a welcoming town.

Check, check, check.

Or you’re fighting an uphill battle that shouldn’t be so difficult. Your stories of hope, struggle and resilience matter. Please reach out and/or share this post.

Here’s to storytelling with purpose.

Stacie
www.staciesherman.com

If you have a compelling story to share or know of a visionary company or leader supporting workers with special needs, I would love to hear about it. Perhaps you are aware of a groundbreaking technology or a legislative proposal that could create significant change.

This next chapter is about using my voice to share stories that inform, inspire and advocate for change. It’s about shining a light on experiences too often overlooked.

Now, I’m turning my focus to a mission that’s deeply personal: writing about disability. As the mother of two children with special needs, I’ve seen firsthand the challenges, inequities and moments of extraordinary awe and beauty in the disability community.