Garret and I arrived at school this morning at 9:40 a.m. When he was already settled in his classroom, I plopped down on my desk and breathed deeply. I was so exhausted I just wanted to sit and do nothing. But it was a different kind of exhaustion, the one that felt good and bad at the same time. Let me explain.
It began with me waking Garret up at 8:30 a.m. since his class was at 9:30. I had to use one of my tricks so he would really get up. I turned on his favorite cartoon and almost immediately he opened his eyes with his hands covering both his ears as he usually does when he does not like the dialogue or music played on t.v. When he was finally fully awake, and enjoying his cartoon show, I had to pull him out of his enjoyment and convince him to take a bath. He whined and cried. I had to carry him to the bathroom. And when he was already enjoying his bath, playing with the water--his one favorite thing in the world, I had to tell him, "Bath time is almost finished, Garret. Time to dry and wear clothes. Because it's time to go to school." I had to barge in his time of joy and bring him back to reality. On the way to school he just cried and wanted to be cuddled. He couldn't understand why he had to stop all the things he liked doing. I comforted him all the way, "It's okay, Garret. We'll just play with the water later. We'll just watch Disney later. It's okay."
Transitions. Changes. Abrupt ones are especially hard for him. He needs a longer amount of time than most kids to process the information, understand it and finally make peace with it--another thing that Autism does to our children. Exhausting for us who are used to having a tight schedule especially on a workday. However, I reflect and realize how our priorities have been rearranged in a much better order than ever before. In a way, it has taught me and our family to slow down, take time and put things in proper order. No need to rush. There is a greater need to put things in place. We are, I wouldn't like to say "force" , but, given the opportunity to have more time to reflect on our thoughts and the decisions we are about to make. When Garret refuses to step out of the bathroom and chooses to play with water. I sit down and face the walls of the bathroom and I am able to breathe deeply. And for five to 10 sometimes 15 minutes, I am able to let go and just be... Still, silent, waiting. Waiting for time. Waiting for Garret taking his time. I am now appreciating the art of just being. With all the anxiety and worry about the future, once again, my son's Autism is teaching me to just be still. Garret is teaching me to wait. And in that stillness and waiting, God speaks to me...while Garret splish-splashes in his little pool of water.
As we were nearing the school, I asked the driver to drive around for a little bit to give my little prince some time to calm down. He was mumbling his self-soothing hums while wrapped in my arms. Never mind if we would be late for a little bit. It was the least I could do after I incessantly burst his bubble this morning. And so when we finally arrived, I still carried him all the way to the room, defying all notions of independence of letting him walk on his own like a big boy. It was my own way of making it all alright for him. For how could I explain the ways of the world governed by constant change and transitions for him? The "it's okay" line sometimes cannot suffice. Even our children need a better explanation than those two words. They deserve better than, "That's life. Change happens." Garret deserves a better explanation than that. These are the times that I want to shout to the world, "Why?!" And these are the times that I don't have an explanation myself. And I can only wrap my arms around my little prince and cradle him giving him some form of safety, security and constancy despite the transitions he has to make, every single day.
The irony of the insights of what transpired today is tremendous. Waiting, silence, stillness on one hand. And on the other hand, a Constant state of flux, abrupt changes and transitions that force us to act on our feet, right away, regardless of preparation or just enough time to adjust and adapt to change. Garret is showing us the way of letting go and just being. And I have to teach him and help him cope with a whirlwind of transitions.
Two lessons Autism gave me today:
1. I need to learn how to wait, to be still, to just be.
2. I need to be creative and stretch that extra mile to help and make Garret learn adapt to change.
Nobody ever said it would be easy. It will be exhausting. Exhausting in a good way because it means I am exerting all my muscles and emotions for my son. And bad because my heart breaks every single time Garret cries, not understanding the things he has to learn.
But it is going to be okay. As long as I keep learning, and as long as I keep making the lessons come to life, everything will be okay.
No comments:
Post a Comment