Kyle's Road

Kyle has been so many things in my life. He is the reason I have the depth of faith I have. He was used as a huge area of growth in my patience. He has become a man, who I am proud of. At 23 years old, I was certain I would never have to explain his road to him. You know, that special road his life has taken him to.
The one only select people travel down. The one that all parents pray their unborn baby will never have to go down.
I was wrong. Less than a month ago, while riding in the van, just the two of us, Kyle asked me, "Mom, why can't I be like Bud?"

"What do you mean, Kyle?"

"You, know. Why can't I drive a car, and have a house? Why do I live at home?"

I caught my breath. What do I say here? He deserves to know. I pulled the van over and looked at him.

"Kyle, you know you had lots of seizures when you were little, right?" He nodded. "Well, all those seizures happened in your brain. Your brain could not take all that extra activity. Kind of like when we plug in too many things and the lights go out and we have to go downstairs and flip that switch." He nods again. "Your brain does not have all it's power because of the seizures. Not enough power to drive a car, or live by yourself, But, you have more than enough power to live a good, full life."

"Why did I have seizures?", he asked.

"When you were a baby, and got your shots, there was a problem with one of them and it made you have seizures."

He looks deep in thought. "That is sad."

My heart tugs. Tears sting. "Yes, Kyle, it is sad."

He turns it around for me, as only Kyle can do, and says with a huge smile, "At least I can walk. Some people can't walk, mom"

"Yes, Kyle, and you have a happier life than most people who did not have seizures, and you know LOTS of people can not drive cars."

He smiles and we continue on our trip. He knows now. I feel sad that he knows. His innocence is gone....or so I think.
That same night I can hear him happily playing with his toys in his room....maybe not all his innocence is lost.