I left you with us about to move away from my small hometown, but there are so many other things to say about our time spent in my hometown.

My parents, Chase's grandparents, still lived in the house I was raised in, and my husband and I bought a house three blocks from them. We had so many hopes that this would be the place where we would raise our daughters. We had no idea that the small town would have so many prejudices against differences. Looking back on my childhood, it was a town that frowned on differences, and any differences, whether they had to do with race, class, or anything that was different than the "normal," were singled out and frowned upon. I did not know that, because my parents didn't raise me that way. We were taught that all of us were the same, and we were taught that differences were good, that variety was the spice of life. We were taught that colors were something you found in a box of crayons, not differences in skin color. We were taught to respect everyone, no matter what the color of skin was, the primary language spoken, nor the ability of learning. Everyone deserved respect. I thank God that this is the way I was raised. My parents were well ahead of the majority of parents in my small hometown.

So, as we embarked on our journey of parenthood and our second daughter's disability, we assumed that everyone would accept her for her possibilities and not her limitations. We were sadly mistaken. It seemed that her special needs, as limited as they were, were such a challenge to the school system that they could not fathom that she would be an asset to the system and the children in that system. We felt that in dealing with her disabilities, the other students would learn compassion and acceptance, that they would learn as much from her as she would learn from them. That, unfortunately, was not the case. The school system saw her as someone who would bring them down (particularly since we wanted her to be integrated into the regular population). We could not see a problem with her being in a regular kindergarten class, especially since she had all of the prerequisites...colors, numbers, shapes, body parts, ABC's, etc. We soon learned that her differences would set her apart and be used to set her apart from the so-called "regular" kids. All we wanted was for her to have a chance to be integrated and to learn in that setting with the "regular" kids. That desire started a firestorm of disagreements that would continue until we finally gave up and moved away to a new school system which would work with us, listen to us, and make mistakes of their own.

We are so thankful, however, for the time that we had in my hometown. My children (we added a third daughter while we were there) were given an opportunity to have a great relationship with my parents. We had no idea that my dad would be diagnosed with cancer months after our move and pass away a year after our departure. My mom would be diagnosed with cancer five years later and pass away in 2001. My children had an opportunity to be so close with my parents, and I would not trade that time for anything. All of the pain that we endured through the school system was worth it, because my children had the close relationship with their grandparents that they will cherish forever. I will be grateful for that time until the day I die.

Chase went to therapy in Amarillo, speech, occupational, physical, for the years that we lived there. As my husband and I both taught school in Amarillo, my parents brought Chase to her therapy twice a week. They got to spend time with the girls on these trips, and my girls still have fond memories of these trips.

Chase did hippotherapy (therapy on a horse), and she still loves horses. This therapy did wonders for Chase. She could talk better, better use of words, better pronunciations, better communication on the back of a horse. I don't know that anyone could explain why it happened, but it was nothing short of miraculous to us. This is the single therapy that did her the most good of any of the therapies we have ever done with her. If you have a chance to volunteer, to observe, or to take your child to hippotherapy, run, don't walk. You will see advances that will astound you.

So, my parent's time with Chase (and with our other girls) was well spent, and they built memories that are priceless. The things that Chase remembers (not to mention the memories that the other girls have) are priceless. Our girls remember their grandparents fondly, and the struggles that we had to endure were well worth it for them to have these memories. I wouldn't change a thing.