There are moments in life that feel like full stops. Tender moments that ask us to pause. They seem more visible these days—perhaps because so many of us are living with heightened uncertainty, with so much shifting around us.
Recently, a family connected to our young families circle has lived through a year defined by stopping. It has been heart-wrenching, exhausting, and full of moments layered with guilt and grief. And yet, at the same time, it has been a year of immense strength.
They spent countless hours advocating, researching, redesigning, and caregiving. They encountered systems that were tired at best, and dismissive or discarding at worst. There were moments when it would have been understandable to wail at tribunals and processes. Instead, they buckled down. They researched options. They worked to clarify their values, their priorities, and their backup plans.
They redesigned their caregiving network—bringing respite closer to home, moving loving grandparents across the street, and drawing extended family in more tightly and intentionally. Their child crashed and burned, needing many weeks of complete decompression. All of this unfolded within the rigid timelines of a school year: registrations, start dates, expectations. The uncertainty was palpable. Backup plans felt fragile. And yet, even the smallest moments began to feel monumental—as if regrowth might be possible.
Then something shifted.
The planning cycles began to pay dividends. Perhaps there was luck involved, mixed with gut instinct and a great deal of parental wisdom. Their child became comfortable at home, slowly returned to community, and found a learning environment that finally supports, encourages, and seeds passion.
I have been fortunate to offer advocacy and planning support through this time. After a few months of quiet, I recently reconnected with the family and learned that not only is the plan holding—it’s flourishing. Growth has been significant. And now, this young person is ready to connect with new people through the extracurriculars they love.
My wish for all families is the strength to continue planning. We know it is lifelong work. And we also know it can be lifesaving, life-giving—and a way of teaching networks how to walk alongside, together.
Shared by Meaghen Taylor-Reid