14 Years

There is a 14 year age difference between Ethan and Sean and when I find myself watching them engage in some type of cooperative activity on a Friday night, as I sometimes do, I grab my camera and I marvel at the sight. The joy of this is NEVER lost on me. I always feel like I am watching something magical.

I once watched a man intensely watching Ethan, Gavin and Mikey closely at a church we used to attend. “So, they act just like brothers?” The only reason I was not too thrown off by the question was that Mikey was a rather new member of the family and I thought the question referenced Mikey’s status in foster care. “Oh yeah, they’re great, endless games and stuff – they are all really wonderful together.” Then he said, “I have a brother like that.” I knew exactly what ‘like that’ meant. It was Ethan. In just a few moments he explained that his brother, who was older than him was placed in residential care when they were young and he recounted how his playmate was removed from his home and his life. He assured me that his parents had to do that because it was ‘best for everyone’. Maybe it was. Maybe it really wasn’t.

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Colors

I remember the first time I saw Ethan color in a coloring book. He was about 5 years old and had just taken his first pill of an ADHD medication about an hour prior. This is a whole story in its self and sometime I will tell it to you.

I distinctly remembering asking Dennis, “What is that? How do you give a kid a pill and he suddenly develops a hobby?!?! How can that happen? How can a drug facilitate that?!?!?” For several weeks, we called it his sit-down-and-color-pill. The difference was extraordinarily stark – like a flicked switch. Not only did he not color before that trial of medication, he didn’t sit. Or make eye contact. Or lots of other things. But here he was coloring.

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What’s Working?

Do you need to hear good news? I swear, I’ll try to wrap this up optimistically. Bear with me, won’t you?

First let’s talk about “What’s Not Working?”

Ethan!

That’s right. He is not working.

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Transportation Woes

Ethan will never drive a car. Ever again.

Occasionally, you might hear a story of a person with Down syndrome with a drivers license. I am happy for them and their parents, but I feel that when a story like that is publicized, it sends a message to parents and the general population that is faulty. I know that it is meant to be encouraging, but the way I work it out, it’s like telling the parents of a typical newborn, “You know, I heard that some of these kids become US Olympians”. I did the math. Similar results. Even if it is possible for a tiny handful of people, it is not a practical probability for most. If you add in all the other folks with intellectual disabilities and adults with autism, you have a whole lot of people who need rides to get to their destinations.

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What’s Wrong?

Only just about everything.

Ethan’s transition into ‘adult life’ has been nothing like I anticipated. It is has been so much harder, slower and fraught with roadblocks than I could have foreseen. Thank God. I am glad I didn’t know – similar to how I am glad I did not know that he would be born with an extra chromosome.

I have noticed that my frustration and disappointment is not well-met by people asking how Ethan is doing. They want to know that he is busy & happy. They want to hear that there are lots of ‘programs’ for adults with disabilities. They want to hear ‘He’s good, thanks!’ I have not complied with their desires. I’ve bitched, moaned, and complained. I have been honest. People haven’t enjoyed that. I can tell by the looks of disgust on their faces. Most people tell me that I must be ‘missing something’. Unlike them, I am not comforted by this thought, because I know that I am not.

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C-A-M-P

Ethan is at Camp PALS as we speak. This has been a labor of love ever since I set my alarm for midnight to register for a highly coveted spot at camp. Camp PALS looked too good to be true.

Turns out it is too good ~ and it is true!!

The schedule is jam-packed with fun and frivolity. The pictures showing up on the Facebook Page are pure magic. Ethan has checked in several times via his brand new iPhone. Facetime and phone calls and texts assure him that we are all still here, but we are not coming to get him. It’s hard.

People ask ‘How is camp?’

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The Graduation Party

There is no party like a “Midland” family party. Our kids excel at partying 🙂 They were happy to be together celebrating once again.

It took me only a few minutes to notice that most of the parents were wearing similar expressions as we glanced at one another. I was familiar with it – I see the same expression on my own face. ‘Deer-in-the-headlights’ sums it up. ‘Shell Shock’ works as well. We tried small talk. We tried meatier subjects. Someone suggested we take it outside.

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Limbo

Nope. Not the party game. It’s more like the metophoric ‘we-are-not-in-hell-but-haven’t-made-it-to-heaven-either’.

coloring

After graduation, Ethan left the ‘educational entitlement’ segment of his life. The school district is no longer responsible to provide programming for him. He also has not turned 21 yet, which would place him into the ‘adult services’ component of his life. It’s soon, but not now.

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Graduation Day

I simply couldn’t hold it together. I think I will go down in Midland history as ‘The Mom Who Cried The Most’.

“You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lighted, but mostly they’re darked.
A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?”
― Dr. Seuss, Oh, The Places You’ll Go!

Precipice

Friday is Graduation Day.

Friday, we veer off of a familiar path that we have come to be able to walk in the dark and in our sleep. One foot in front of the other ~ it has been safe, predictable and controlled. It supported us and Ethan in a way that made our lives hum.

14 years.

That is one well-worn road.

We have puzzle pieces to put together, but we don’t have the picture on the front of the box to work from. We need to invent, create and construct whatever it is that is going to build the minutes into hours, and hours into days, and days into meaning and substance.

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“Here goes…..
better throw my hand in………
wish me happy landing…….
all I gotta do is…………
JUMP!!!!”  ~ Aladdin