Grateful for every day

Your eyes do not deceive you.  Yes, me.  I'm grateful for every day of my sometimes miserable, sometimes wonderful, always beautiful existence on this place we call earth.  It came to me last night.  Lansdowne (our therapy joint) held an IBI Christmas concert.  Sitting in a metal folding chair with my younger daughter Casey, waiting nervously for what I thought was going to be a crapshoot.  Twelve ASD children singing Christmas carols.....hmph.  I was very wrong.  It turned out to be an enormous wake up call.  In came the first group of teen/young adult carolers.  I saw my young son in all of their faces.  I saw joy and gravity and incredible happiness.  Until I tasted them, I had no idea tears were falling from my eyes.........(get to know me better, I seem to cry a lot)

This is what I wanted for Timothy.
  Peace and happiness.  Only I hadn't known it until that moment.

In they came.  I was searching for him through the shoulders in front of me for a few minutes until he came walking in, with two therapists and walked right out.  Aha!  I get it.  Its too much to sit there. Some smart cookies they are.  A few minutes later he came back and was able to sit and jingle a little bell to the last song.  I had to hold back my sobs.  These were happy sobs though, not from sadness.  I was so damn proud of him!  He didn't know all the words but that was the best freaking Jingle Bells I had ever heard!

It was over before I knew it and Santa was coming...............and we were going.  Timothy was done and trying to escape, anywhere.  Sensory overload had taken over and he was spinning like a little tornado looking for his house, his sanctuary.  I grabbed the other kids and off we went.
This was a successful evening for us.  We took a little detour and checked out the Christmas lights in the neighbourhood before steering for home.  He has come such a long way in just a year.

I'm so grateful for every moment like this.....a kid of 6.5 years old would have been in several concerts, assemblies or productions by now.  Not him.  Sitting for thirty seconds in a room full of people is a success.  Following a three word directive is success.  Hell, peeing on the toilet with cueing is a success to me. 

You see, the specials want what everyone else wants.  To be happy.  To be included.  To be loved.

Its my job as a mother to make sure my son can feel these things to the best of his ability.  Maybe he won't be able to but I"ll sure as hell try.

All the best to you and yours this holiday season and in 2015~


1 comment:

  1. Your blog has so much in site on what most people don't see. I love that you make it known that he's your little patch of heaven when everyone sees hell. I work in retail in a store that has the specials come in and let me tell you those days are the best days. When you get that little smile from one or when they look at you and go "your hair! I like the color!" (I used to have bright purple hair). The parents or who ever is with them is apologizing. No one ever has to apologize for those angels.