I was asked to (or have the honor to) blog about what I want in 2013. I was given the freedom to write about anything I wanted... funny, long, short, serious, autism related,whatever. So, I farted around for a couple of days not getting anything done really, stressing myself out not getting my assignment done when it hit me...
Acceptance.
2012 has been a wild ride for the boy. We watched our first "major" regression in Jack's progress, and it scared the shit out of us. It lead us to one of those "put up or shut up" points with the school. And he put up. Things have been going better and better every day. We're not popping the champagne yet, as we want to make sure he gets through the transition after winter break, but it's looking great. We're spending the entire day in class now. We're completing assignments and instruction within the allotted time. We're performing at general ed levels... even excelling at times.
Then, we'll have one of those out of the blue aggressive/mysterious/non-compliant/regressive behavior therapy sessions. They always remind me of the same thing. We are not done. Our work will never be done. No parent's is.
But I have some great things going for me.
In 2013 (and beyond) I will try to:
Accept at long last that my child is autistic. He will always require extra attention. Celebrate his successes and not dwell on his failures
Accept that children aren't perfect and parenting never ends. Celebrate all of our children's successes and don't dwell on their failures (or our own).
Accept that I have an amazing support team. A support team that knows what they are doing and truly have the best interests of my child at heart. They do... all of them.
Accept that I have some amazing friends and family. Friends and family that know what they are doing and truly have my best interests at heart... and want to help.
Accept (and mostly) that I have an amazing wife who cares about the boy even more than I do. Additionally, she cares about me even more than I do. And she does it all while working a full-time job that allows us to have one parent home with the child a luxury I, embarrassingly, often overlook. She is the one I take advantage of most, but should the least. I need to accept that she is amazing and thank her more often.
Finally, Accept that I have an incredible son. He can do amazing things... and I need to remind him of that more often.
In 2013 I would like to be able to accept things better. I should start now.
Jack, you are an amazing child. I love how hard you work. I love your sense of humor. I love your creativity. Things aren't always perfect, my boy.
But I accept them.
You are good.
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Happiness is a Warm Gun
There is a profound sadness in our collective soul. From this sadness comes hatred, accusations, assumptions, and blame.
And the inevitable "if onlys"...
If only he had a smaller magazine.
If only he had a knife.
If only the teachers were armed.
If only the school was locked.
If only he didn't kill his mother.
If only he didn't have Aspergers.
If only he wasn't insane.
If only we locked up the mentally unstable.
If only he had enough money to buy medication.
If only he took his medication.
If only his medication didn't have side effects.
If only this had happened in an inner-city.
If only everyone paid more taxes.
If only everyone paid less taxes.
If only we had national health care.
If only he had been a responsible gun owner.
If only he went to the police station instead of a school.
If only he couldn't drive to get there.
If only it was a high school.
If only he was still a minor.
If only his parents hadn't divorced.
If only he didn't play video games.
If only he didn't watch TV.
If only God was allowed in schools.
If only God wasn't allowed in schools.
If only he hadn't killed 1st graders.
26 "if onlys". One for each of the victims killed in Newtown.
And none of them are right or wrong.
I am not educated enough, clever enough, or powerful enough to tell you what the right answer is to "why did this happen?"
And neither are you.
What happened in Newtown is a tragedy. A tragedy that strikes me like no other because I have a first grade son, with autism, in our schools, that I want to protect. I want to do everything within my power to make sure this can never happen again. But, as the ironic song that titles this post suggests, it's not that simple. I am willing to take some time and listen to both sides of the arguments on gun control, health care, mental health services, god in schools, violence in the media, school safety, insanity, broken homes, taxes, genetics, prescription drugs, Autism, and atrocity.
Are you?
How can we think about the unthinkable? How can we justify the unjustifiable? How can we explain the inexplicable? How can we listen to what can not be said? There are 26 less people to answer those questions now... most of them children.
Children for fuck's sake.
I've been trying to write something this entire week about Newtown. However, every time I try I'm just simply overtaken with a profound sadness. I don't live in Connecticut, but I am the father of every one of those souls that were taken from me. We all are.
And it's okay to not have the answers yet.
It's okay to simply be sad.
Thank you for reading this, truly.
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