The thought of homeschooling my son affected with neurological impairments terrified me. Me, a teacher? No I am his life’s teacher. Let someone else handle the academics! Yet, at 49 years-old, I just needed to get over myself. This was not what I had planned. Just a few short years earlier, with our best man helping, I watched my husband cram furniture and belongings into an idling U-haul. My 25th anniversary would surely have been celebrated in Hawaii not sweeping leaves and dreams out of my garage as he drove off. I was left to celebrate my new kind of normal marking milestones with Danny, my youngest son, and watching Ian, the oldest, wrestling autism and many of its unwelcome companions. My strength was not my own…it had to be coming from somewhere much higher.
Read more here: Home Educator’s Family Times: Serving Families Since 1986.
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