Five Years.

I got off my bike and looked out at the vacant picnic area.  

A family should be here, enjoying the last days of summer, laughing, playing, making memories.

Once upon a time it was our family that would have been here. Once upon a time. When we were whole.  This weekend marked the fifth anniversary of my mother in laws passing. 

There could have been 100 families here, it wouldn't have made a difference to how I felt- Empty and hollow, missing her so much.

Because my daughter misses the sound of her slippers scuffing across the floor.  Because amid the clutter on my teenage son's dresser is a picture of his Grandma.  Because a little boy holds on to the memory of a Grandmother who would give him treats in a Ziploc baggie each time he left her house.  Because another little boy doesn't remember her at all.  Because Charlie sleeps with the Bunny she gave him for Easter.  Because her grandchildren have missed out on one of life's great treasures, but holding on to the few memories they have as tight as Charlie hangs on to Mr. Bunny.

Because Because Ray is now a widower.  Trying to fit into a world of couples.  Because he goes to the cemetery on Sunday mornings.  Because he's alone.


Because her kids had to grow up in an instant.  Because living without your mom, your cheerleader, your guide and compass is hard.  Because time makes it easier, and then it hits you just how long it's been since she called your name or you heard the sound of her laughter. 

 Looking at where we once played, I felt so alone, and missed her so much.  

Finding Our Groove :: an update

We are a couple of weeks into the school year, and dare I say that we are finding our groove. 

Charlie is now a full time student.  In our school board, junior kindergarten and senior kindergarten are full day, every other day programs.  Going every day without a break in between has been an adjustment for The Little Man and his class mates.  Seriously?  You've got to be kidding me?  And, Again?  Were some of the responses that the moms and I heard as we would wake our kids up in the morning.  I'm pretty sure that Charlie has accepted this as his new normal.  His only hope now, is for a snow day.  Yes, one and a half weeks into school and he is praying for snow. 

I fully expected a phone call from the high school on the first day about Josh.  Instead, it was Kenzie texting me from the office.  Apparently, she had chosen the wrong business course and had to make adjustments to her timetable.  Kenzie is not the kind of kid who likes being in the office for any reason even if it's only a timetable change.  Things worked out and she enrolled into another business course.  It's a much better fit - the course content focuses on how business works.  Speaking of The Kid and the business world, she is beginning to look for a part time job.  Another milestone - time keeps marching on, nothing stays the same. 

As for Josh, karma couldn't have been kinder to him on the first day.  True, he left the house alone.  But somewhere in between our house and the school, a few girls (the pretty, popular girls) called out to him and they all walked together.  SCORE one for the little guy.

Josh's favorite subject is drama.  In drama, his words and actions are scripted for him.  For a guy who gets tounge tied, and can't find the right words or actions in everyday life, drama is a safe place to be.   His first journal entry for drama made tears come to my eyes;

"Today is a beginning.  I'm trying to have fun and I think I will achieve it.  Drama is one of the apples of learning but this one is golden.  I went with drama because I hope to learn something, to face my fears and to make my start wonderful.  I would definitely go in tenth grade drama - honest truth."

I'm certain that there will be lots of bumps along the way to next June.  But we've begun.  And the start is always the hardest part.

First Day

I’m trying to tell you about my life,

My tongue is twisted, more dead than alive,

My feeling have always been betrayed

I was born a little damaged man

Look what they’ve made.

Don’t you find,

That it’s lonely.

The corridor - you walk there alone

Life is a game you tried.

If life is a game, you’re tired.



Velvet Morning by The Verve.



Josh left today for high school. My tears came in waves last night. I’ve spent the better part of the last year focusing on making Josh’s transition to high school smooth. Working with the school so that resources and support would be put in place for him. So much planning and preparing. The tears came last night when I realized that none of it would help him on the first day. I realized that he will have to walk alone. I could do nothing more to help him.

His tears came this morning. I gave him a hug, and told him it was okay, that crying now was good because it meant that he was getting it out here at home in a safe spot. He calmed down and went back to his morning routine.

Just before it was time for Josh to leave he and I went out back to take a picture for his scrapbook. After our mini photo shoot, he turned to me, sad and scared and said, “I have no one to walk with.” I don’t know where I found the strength, but I didn’t cry. Instead I told him he would be fine, that I believed in him and that he wouldn’t be alone. Everyone was nervous today.

Josh and I went back inside to say good bye to the rest of the family. Kenzie gave him her words of wisdom - you have to talk to someone, don’t wait for people to talk to you. John gave his fatherly pep talk - just remember, everyone feels a little anxious, everyone will be thinking the same thing as you.

What is Josh thinking about? Gravy. One of his favourite things. That is what will get him through today. Gravy. There is a good possibility he will blurt out gravy.
I don’t spend a lot of time playing the blame game. Josh is in the autism spectrum. There is nothing I can do about it, and I don’t even know if I would try. It is part of who he is.   Part of what makes him sweet, kind, trusting and truthful.

But today, I blame myself.   I can’t fix autism. I cant fix the way the world sees him. I can’t fix the education system. I can’t give him friends. I can’t make this better for him. Today, as his mother I feel like I’ve let him down. That I passed on a combination of DNA that makes his life, this day harder for him.

The best I can do today is wait.   And while I am waiting, I will make a roast beef dinner, complete with gravy.