At first glance, most people would assume that any relationship between my husband and I would be doomed to failure. On the surface, we were different....I was a "country" girl and he was a "city" boy. I was Protestant and he was Catholic. My family was blue collar and his family was white collar. And so on and on it goes. Under the surface, however, we are quite a lot alike. We are both stubborn, loyal, and value the family unit as we saw it growing up. John's parents were very different from my parents but they also put family before themselves. John's father was one of seventeen children and his mother was one of eight children. John never knew his grandmothers because both died at a young age...can't imagine why. I say this with the utmost respect, but his paternal grandmother probably only wore one none-maternity dress in her adult life and that was her wedding dress. Though several of the children didn't survive infancy and there were a couple of sets of twins, that poor woman was pregnant, had just given birth, or was taking care of a baby most of her marriage. My father-in-law was one of the elder children and helped support his family through the "Great Depression" and even through his adult life, he helped support his younger siblings.
John's mother was the youngest child until her family adopted a baby when my mother-in-law was a teenager. Both families took care of their own during the tough and not-so-tough times. It would not be incorrect for me to say that there were a few family members who were a little "off"...some enough to be sent away for care and some just enough to be odd. John's dad was 20 years older than his mom...he was actually of my grandfather's generation while his mother was about the same age as my parents. They married in 1957 and John was born in October 1958. When he was about 18 months old, his parents bought the house next door to his father's family. Though just a toddler, John's mom told the story of how he cried and cried when he had to leave the apartment for his new home....hmmm...he didn't like change. John has a younger sister and brother and they are all close in age. From what he remembers, they had a wonderful childhood...mostly spent within the few blocks surrounding their home. Their life revolved around home, school, family, and their church which was just around the corner. Once John started Kindergarten at age 4, his life was very structured. He attended a Catholic elementary school, a Catholic Boys High School, and a Catholic college all within a bus ride from his home. Weekends were spent with his Godfather and his aunts who also lived in the same small city. His Godfather was also his uncle...his mother's brother who was closest to her in age. Uncle Alvin was seriously injured in the Korean War and this changed his entire life. He was paralyzed and eventually lost both his legs and lived with his sisters until he passed away in the 1970s. John learned to appreciate how fragile life was and how to make the best of any situation from his uncle who had many interests chief among them was keeping little "Johnny" occupied. John knew from a young age that he wanted to be a dentist and he never deviated from this goal. Following his college graduation, he enrolled in a dental school two hours away from home and spent the next years driving back and forth on the weekends. After that, he joined the USAF in 1984 from which he retired after a 20-year career. He now works at the same place in the same job slot he held while on active duty only now he works for the VA.
I love my husband dearly and would not change anything about him but I do have my suspicions that he also has Asperger's Syndrome...he just copes better than most people because of the tight structure that he had in his early days. He is extremely intelligent, compassionate, and very good at his work. He also prefers to stay at home rather than socialize and most definitely has OCD. He never throws anything away if he can get away with it. The military was a good fit because of the structure and because he was a medical officer, his life was different from that of a line officer. He is still doing what he has always wanted to do...practicing dentistry on patients who serve their country.
John and I met during his senior year of dental school. We met in October, were engaged by December, and married by June right after his graduation. The day after our wedding reception, he went on active duty and we left for Texas for his version of basic training. I couldn't have asked for more in a partner...we got to have experiences within a structured lifestyle and while I tolerate his idiosyncrasies, he also tolerates mine...and I have a lot! The early years of our marriage were spent getting to know each other better and finding our way in the world as a couple. It was 3 years before things would change and we were enjoying every minute of what life was offering us. It's not so much that we went anywhere or did anything particularly exciting but that we decided early on that we would face life as an adventure and make the best of what opportunities we were given. We have always tried to instill that way of thinking into our children as well. You can either accept what comes your way and enjoy what is there to be enjoyed or you can be miserable. Life is too short to be miserable....And now on to the arrival of the elephant......
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Friday, April 26, 2013
Before The Elephant Called "Autism" entered the room...
You know the "thing"...yes, that "thing" that decides what you and your family can do each day. It decides where and when you go places and it decides how long you can stray from your usual routine. That "thing" determines the family dynamics and social interactions. I'm talking about that "thing" called "Autism" or "Autistic Spectrum Disorder". We have wrestled with it for years now and just when we think we have a handle on it, it changes and we are back to square one again. Well, I am calling it out. Yes...you over there in the middle of the room...you "ASD" thing. You better get ready because I am taking some control back! You will NOT be holding my family hostage anymore. My sword is drawn and I am a mother bear protecting her cubs! You'd better not turn your back on me!
Before I begin this battle, though, I'd like to talk about life before. Before the elephant came to live in my house...you know, back when Ozzie and Harriet and the Cleavers showed us how to be "perfect" parents. Back in the days when I was growing up (I am old. I was born in late 1958 and my childhood was spent in the Sixties.), life was different. Most people lived near where they had been raised and families were big...lots of aunts, uncles, and cousins. It was like that for me, too. My mother's parents not only helped raise a niece, but also opened their home to my grandmother's parents. In fact, I can't remember a time when my great-grandparents didn't live with my grandparents. It was wonderful for me but I suspect it was a lot harder on my grandparents than they let on. I had two full sets of great-grandparents until I was in high school and I thought that was normal. My parents made sure that my sister and I spent a lot of time with our great-grandparents and I learned a lot from them. I learned what true love really was back in those days. My great-grandfather treated his wife with tender care even when her mind diminished. He took her to her favorite place...a campground where they had a trailer on a lake...and he took care of her. He took such good care of her that while they were driving home and he felt a heart attack coming on, he pulled over into a parking lot as he died. A kind stranger helped my confused and frightened great-grandmother, called an ambulance (all in the days before cell phones and 911), and stayed with her until help arrived. That was the kind of world it was then...a stranger helping an elderly couple and then disappearing without leaving his name.
It wasn't just my mother's family, though, it was my dad's family, too. My dad was a young man in his twenties who worked hard to support his young family. He and my mom had lost a son in the year before I was born...a newborn who suffered from "Rh Incompatibility" which could have been treated had they but known that he was at risk. I was born the following year and then my sister was born a little more than 2 years after that...we were both at risk, but my parents made sure we were born in a hospital that could treat the disorder. When I was 3 years old, my dad's father died in his sleep. He was young...only in his 50's. He had a wife, my dad, and two daughters who were much younger than my dad. My parents gave up their little family life and moved into the small township where my father's family had land. My dad not only worked full-time, but he took care of the family business and worked as a Deputy Sheriff. Money was tight, but we didn't know it...we had fields to play in and barns and buildings to explore. My youngest aunt was like an older sister to me...only 10 years separated us. We had a trunk full of old dance costumes to dress up in, old-fashioned roller skates and cement pads to skate on....life was good.
Here's what I'm getting at...back in the "Good Old Days", families took care of themselves. We all had that relative who was slightly "off" or maybe just socially awkward and we accepted them, loved them, and kept them with us in the family home. I know not everyone was able to do that...there were people who had to be "Institutionalized" or put in a "Nursing" home. Our family had to do that, too, and it was painful. But, what I am awkwardly trying to say is this...back in the day, our options were limited. We did what we had to do out of love as we still do today, but back then it was either home or institution. Institution really meant warehousing...no real treatments, no social interaction, just a place to keep them. Even though the world today is much different, we have options that weren't available back then.
Stay tuned, friends, for more on the story of the elephant and what I am doing to get it out of my living room.....
Before I begin this battle, though, I'd like to talk about life before. Before the elephant came to live in my house...you know, back when Ozzie and Harriet and the Cleavers showed us how to be "perfect" parents. Back in the days when I was growing up (I am old. I was born in late 1958 and my childhood was spent in the Sixties.), life was different. Most people lived near where they had been raised and families were big...lots of aunts, uncles, and cousins. It was like that for me, too. My mother's parents not only helped raise a niece, but also opened their home to my grandmother's parents. In fact, I can't remember a time when my great-grandparents didn't live with my grandparents. It was wonderful for me but I suspect it was a lot harder on my grandparents than they let on. I had two full sets of great-grandparents until I was in high school and I thought that was normal. My parents made sure that my sister and I spent a lot of time with our great-grandparents and I learned a lot from them. I learned what true love really was back in those days. My great-grandfather treated his wife with tender care even when her mind diminished. He took her to her favorite place...a campground where they had a trailer on a lake...and he took care of her. He took such good care of her that while they were driving home and he felt a heart attack coming on, he pulled over into a parking lot as he died. A kind stranger helped my confused and frightened great-grandmother, called an ambulance (all in the days before cell phones and 911), and stayed with her until help arrived. That was the kind of world it was then...a stranger helping an elderly couple and then disappearing without leaving his name.
It wasn't just my mother's family, though, it was my dad's family, too. My dad was a young man in his twenties who worked hard to support his young family. He and my mom had lost a son in the year before I was born...a newborn who suffered from "Rh Incompatibility" which could have been treated had they but known that he was at risk. I was born the following year and then my sister was born a little more than 2 years after that...we were both at risk, but my parents made sure we were born in a hospital that could treat the disorder. When I was 3 years old, my dad's father died in his sleep. He was young...only in his 50's. He had a wife, my dad, and two daughters who were much younger than my dad. My parents gave up their little family life and moved into the small township where my father's family had land. My dad not only worked full-time, but he took care of the family business and worked as a Deputy Sheriff. Money was tight, but we didn't know it...we had fields to play in and barns and buildings to explore. My youngest aunt was like an older sister to me...only 10 years separated us. We had a trunk full of old dance costumes to dress up in, old-fashioned roller skates and cement pads to skate on....life was good.
Here's what I'm getting at...back in the "Good Old Days", families took care of themselves. We all had that relative who was slightly "off" or maybe just socially awkward and we accepted them, loved them, and kept them with us in the family home. I know not everyone was able to do that...there were people who had to be "Institutionalized" or put in a "Nursing" home. Our family had to do that, too, and it was painful. But, what I am awkwardly trying to say is this...back in the day, our options were limited. We did what we had to do out of love as we still do today, but back then it was either home or institution. Institution really meant warehousing...no real treatments, no social interaction, just a place to keep them. Even though the world today is much different, we have options that weren't available back then.
Stay tuned, friends, for more on the story of the elephant and what I am doing to get it out of my living room.....
Thursday, April 25, 2013
A Kick in the Rear to Get Moving Again....
I've been absent from blogging as I struggle with several issues in my life...it doesn't take much to push me into the "what-do-I-do-when-there-is-too-much-to-do" zone. I've kind of been stuck there since last fall. Nothing gets done as I am overwhelmed with a long list of things that I should do before there is no time left to do them. These things range from the emotional to the physical but they all share one thing...they force me to shut down. I worry about my father who lives about 8 hours away and is the only member of my "original" family that I have left now. I can't continue to take his health for granted and I don't want him to think that I don't care because I am not with him more often. I worry about my husband who works too hard and doesn't get as much rest as he needs. I worry about our son whose journey has so many roadblocks and hazards because of his Asperger's and other related health issues. I worry about our daughter who is away at college and is sometimes so stressed and overwhelmed that she calls me in tears. I worry about our beloved pug, Ginger, whose time on earth is coming to an end as she slowly becomes paralyzed. I worry about myself and all the health issues I face because I am not taking care of myself. I worry about my extended family and friends and how this world is changing so rapidly and becoming so dangerous. It seems there is so much for me to worry about and that I am limited to some extent in what I can do to change things.
I don't know how I got stuck so hard in this place...it just seems like one thing came upon me after another so fast that I couldn't process and act in response. It's an excuse...I know that...I guess I'm good at excuses. But, I am going to change that....I am, really. This week I attended an informational meeting for a project that gives me much hope and I am inspired by the dedication of the individuals involved in starting up this complex but desperately needed project. If these people can do this with all the "I"s to dot and "T"s to cross, then I can overcome what I face and help them.
So...I am going to try to get myself motivated in these next weeks. It will be hard, I know, because the easiest thing to do is to keep doing nothing. I will find a way to let my dad know that I love him and he is important to me even though I can't always be with him when I want to be there. I will find a way to reduce the stress for my husband so that he can rest and recharge. I will find a way to help our son negotiate a world that doesn't always understand why different is good. I will find a way to help our daughter enjoy this interlude in her life. I will find a way to love Ginger with all the love I have to give her so that her last days are good to make up for the bad days before she came into our family life. I will still worry about my extended family and friends but I will remember that they know I am praying for them. I will try to help to create a safety net in this crazy and dangerous world. And by doing these things, I will be helping myself.
If you are interested in helping me change, a good place to start is with the project that has motivated me to change....go to Touchdown Communities.com or go their Facebook Page for more information. What is starting as a local initiative will go national and international as people begin to share the vision....I can't wait to see what's going to happen!
I don't know how I got stuck so hard in this place...it just seems like one thing came upon me after another so fast that I couldn't process and act in response. It's an excuse...I know that...I guess I'm good at excuses. But, I am going to change that....I am, really. This week I attended an informational meeting for a project that gives me much hope and I am inspired by the dedication of the individuals involved in starting up this complex but desperately needed project. If these people can do this with all the "I"s to dot and "T"s to cross, then I can overcome what I face and help them.
So...I am going to try to get myself motivated in these next weeks. It will be hard, I know, because the easiest thing to do is to keep doing nothing. I will find a way to let my dad know that I love him and he is important to me even though I can't always be with him when I want to be there. I will find a way to reduce the stress for my husband so that he can rest and recharge. I will find a way to help our son negotiate a world that doesn't always understand why different is good. I will find a way to help our daughter enjoy this interlude in her life. I will find a way to love Ginger with all the love I have to give her so that her last days are good to make up for the bad days before she came into our family life. I will still worry about my extended family and friends but I will remember that they know I am praying for them. I will try to help to create a safety net in this crazy and dangerous world. And by doing these things, I will be helping myself.
If you are interested in helping me change, a good place to start is with the project that has motivated me to change....go to Touchdown Communities.com or go their Facebook Page for more information. What is starting as a local initiative will go national and international as people begin to share the vision....I can't wait to see what's going to happen!
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