Forty-Two Candles and a Community of Friends
June has been one of those months that remind Mikelle and me how quickly life moves and how important it is to pause long enough to appreciate it.
In just a few days, Mikelle will celebrate another birthday.
Forty-three years ago, I couldn’t have imagined all the people, experiences, and adventures that would become part of her life. Like most parents, I worried about the future. Would she have friends? Would she belong? Would she have opportunities to contribute and be known?
What Holds Us Together
This month has been a beautiful reminder that community is built one relationship at a time.
We are welcoming Brittany to Mikelle’s support team. Every new team member brings fresh energy and a new perspective. There is always a learning curve, but there is also the excitement of discovering new possibilities together.
At the same time, Seven recently gave us six weeks’ notice as she begins a new chapter in her own life. She was accepted into a bachelor’s degree program at a local university, and while transitions are never easy, this is exactly the kind of news we love to celebrate. The people who support Mikelle are not standing still. They are growing, learning, pursuing careers, building families, and creating futures of their own.
Liz is preparing for her upcoming wedding, and recently she and Maryann escaped to the Jersey Shore for a bachelorette celebration. Hearing their stories afterward made me smile. There is something wonderful about watching relationships develop among the people who share life with Mikelle. What began as coworkers often becomes genuine friendship.
As I write this, I am also reflecting on a recent trip to Idaho, where I joined friends and colleagues from across the country. Some of us have worked together for decades. Others are newer to the conversation. We gathered to discuss the future of disability supports, employment, and leadership, as well as the challenges families continue to face.
But as often happens, some of the most meaningful moments took place around a campfire, sharing songs, stories, and laughter.
We remembered friends who are no longer with us and welcomed new faces into the circle. Like our younger friends, my colleagues continue to surprise and inspire me in their so-called retirement. Some are recording and performing their original music at local venues, while others are rescuing broken-down, rusted-out muscle cars and painstakingly restoring them to their former glory. And I have to admit, the deep rumble of a muscle car engine still gets me every time.
My little trip through Colorado, Wyoming, and Idaho gave me lots of time to think about the rhythm of community.
Communities are not static things. They breathe, they are like our lungs, they expand with life and release what needs to be released. And, like our hearts, there is a beat to every one.
People come into our lives. Others move on to new adventures. Some relationships last for decades. Others touch us for only a season. Yet each person leaves something behind.
Both Comforting and Challenging
For families like ours, this can be both comforting and challenging. We spend years building circles of support, knowing that change is inevitable. Staff members move away. Friends marry. Careers evolve. Children become adults. Parents grow older.
And still, the community continues.
The future has always felt uncertain. Yet when I look around at Mikelle’s life, I see evidence that community has a remarkable ability to renew itself.
New team members arrive. Old friends stay connected. Young people move toward their dreams. Experienced leaders continue to mentor the next generation, and the circle widens and narrows, but it never stops moving.
As Mikelle celebrates another birthday, I find myself less focused on the years and more focused on the people. The friends around the kitchen table. The teammates who show up every day. The colleagues gathered around campfires. The listeners who tune into our podcast. The readers who continue to walk alongside us.
Thank you for being part of our community.
Thank you for helping us remember that belonging is not a destination. It is something we create together, one relationship at a time.