I know the title is just a bit too lengthy and too obvious and to an extent, a bit cheesy? But just because it’s that time of the year where everybody is achieving a milestone and beginning another, I hate to sound cliché, but there is no better term—starting another chapter of their lives. Yes, I mean graduation ceremonies and all that. But this has nothing and everything to do with graduation. So here you go.
Mom was getting ready for work. I was busy playing. Then she walked to our “sala” and walked through the door leaving. The details are hazy now but what is clear up to this moment in time is how I went to the jalousie window and cried pleading her not to leave. I simply did not want her to leave. Yaya Sophie comforted me saying it was okay that mom had to leave because she had to go to work and she will be back later. I don’t know how old I was. Probably 6 or 7 when this happened. Even until now, I remember vividly the pain I felt when Mom left for work. I couldn’t understand why she had to work. All I wanted was for her to be with me all the time. At all times. Eventually, of course, I learned to cope and I no longer cried when she left for work.
A few days ago, I had to go back to the Center to hold a meeting with the Sped Teachers. And Garret would not let me out of his sight. With every creak of their bedroom door, he would turn and check that it was not his mama who went out. I tried to think of ways to distract him—putting on his favorite DVD, Magic English Disney, Dora and Diego, Ice Age. Nothing seemed to work. Finally, I decided to leave the room, for better or for worse. After all what I had to do was equally important for him and the other kids at the center. So I went out and into our bedroom and locked the door. What happened next was not the “better” outcome. He panicked and went after me, banged on our bedroom door. Realizing he couldn’t open it, he went back to his room and cried and screamed and cried for 15 whole minutes. And that was the longest 15 minutes of my entire life.
You have no idea how hard it was for me to listen and not give in to him. I had no choice but to let him go through that experience. Garret had to learn in his own way to cope with his mama leaving for work. He had to be fully aware of me leaving his sight. He had to somehow process as best as he can that it was just okay. He had to comfort himself that mama would be back later. Thankfully, after 15 minutes the crying stopped. I finally left for the center.
Separation Anxiety. We all experience this at one time or another, a friend leaving for another country, a break-up of a friendship, a growing apart of a relationship, a death of a loved one, everything going through this painful process of separation. At the very least we are anxious. At its worst, the pain of letting go of someone or something is tremendous. And we have our own “adult-like” ways of coping. We sometimes pretend that it’s okay putting up a front. We crumble and break down and cry for a long time. We laugh it off with beer and whatnot. We box the hell out of that punching bag. We pray. We think, sometimes too hard. We question. We provide the answers. And then we cry some more. Then finally, we move on.
What we sometimes do not realize is that we actually learn our coping skills and self-calming techniques as young children—When our parents first dropped us on our first day of school, or earlier, such as suddenly becoming aware of mom leaving for work. So it all depends on how our parents dealt with our endless pleas of “Mama!” of “Daddy don’t leave!” .
Garret will be turning 7 this Friday, March 30th. He has come so far physically, mentally, and emotionally. He’s getting to be so smart, he knows how to push all my buttons, and he know how to strategize to get what he wants, and that includes crying so I will be with him all the time. But more than this, I wonder how he deals with this thing called separation anxiety. Unlike other kids who can verbally articulate their anxiety, he actually "non-verbalizes" it perhaps even more clearly. And then when there is nothing left for him to do about the fact that mom really left for work, he recovers quite quickly and acts as if the episode of crying and screaming and banging the door did not occur at all. I wonder whether the pain he felt has really disappeared. I wonder whether it is just locked deep in his heart. I wonder if he resents me leaving him or disciplining him. I wonder if he understands why I scream at him when he misbehaves badly and when I cannot take it anymore and just break down. I wonder how much of me as his mama does he understand. I wonder what goes on in his mind and his heart. This mysterious world of his is just that—a mystery, a puzzle that I strive to solve every single day. For every tantrum, for every scream, for every whine, for every “good job” waiting, for every smile and bubbling laughter, for every spontaneous hug and kiss, for every milestone reached, I wonder and I try to solve to the best of my ability. And because I don’t have fixed answers to all my wonderings, all the more I want to protect him from every possible hurt and pain that he may encounter in this life. Even if I know can’t, I will still protect him come hell or high water. Because that’s what you do to those you love.
But this is the greatest irony. And only now do I truly understand. To truly love is to learn to let go, to learn to let things be, to set them free, to experience things—the good, the bad, the worst and the most beautiful. To truly love Garret and Morgan, I shall have to allow them to learn coping skills on their own. They will have to experience the disappointment and frustration that mama has to go to work. They will have to go through a whole lot of other things. The crying and the screaming shall have to happen. Because there is no other way for them to learn than to face their anxieties head on. They will learn to pick themselves up after every fall. They will learn to move on. And they will only learn to do all this if I learn to let go, let them be.
I don’t know if Autism does more good than harm when they are confronted with relationship concerns. Their “impaired” socialization skills make them indifferent in some cases and nonchalant to an extent. In Garret’s case, he is quite the opposite, very affectionate, craves every tight hug and welcomes kisses. But like I said, after a screaming episode of frustration, he recovers automatically and shifts to another mode that makes me wonder again, “Is it his way of numbing the pain? Or has Autism allowed him not to dwell too long on things, which is actually, when you think about it, is a hidden blessing?”
Experts say, children learn quickly because their brain is like a sponge. They recover well from a fall right away because their bones are flexible. And yes, they cope with separation sooner or later. And the sooner they are allowed to experience things that teach them strong coping skills, the better they learn and the stronger their resilience will be.
As Garret is growing older, I am learning to treat him just like any other “normal” regular kid in discipline and in teaching coping skills. You know why? Because he is teaching me to be a better parent every single day. I just don’t have all the answers to the puzzles that his world bombards at me every day. But it’s okay. It’s all going to be okay. Garret will be okay. He will learn how to cope. He will learn to be resilient. He is coping. And he is doing very well. I think it may be me who is actually suffering from a serious case of separation anxiety (just like all parents do, I think) and I will have to learn to trust the experts on what they say.
The Universe has its way of placing meaning to events. The purpose of a particular event may be obscure at that particular time that it is actually happening, but it will unfold certainly, sooner or later. This is one of those things. When I was 6 or 7, I couldn’t understand why my own mom had to leave for work. Now I’m a mom. Now I understand. But, more important than this, I now understand that just as I coped well, Garret will do too. Even better, I think. And it’s time for me to stop dwelling on things because everything’s going to be okay. Like I said, my boys tell me all the time, “Mama, it’s time to cut the crap and the bullshit.” And maybe they are telling me, “ Look how you turned out to be, mama. You did okay. You turned out just fine. Remember, mama we spent 9 months in your womb. You must have given us at least an ounce of your courage and resilience.” Or maybe it’s just me doing my self-soothing techniques. But I would like to believe it’s Garret and Morgan who is telling me this because right in front of me is proof enough. They are doing fine. My little prince and feisty king are doing just fine.
Life lesson for today: The only way to deal with separation anxiety is to let go because everything is going to be okay. I will have to trust the Universe on that.
So yes, this has nothing and everything to do with graduation ceremonies. I am acknowledging the fact that it is time for Garret to learn things on his own. I am learning to let go. And perhaps Garret is beginning to understand that mama can't be with him all the time, at all times. And he is learning as well to cope and deal and to just let go. So this is our graduation, a different kind of graduation, but a milestone reached, nonetheless. And a beginning of a new chapter. And I am perfectly okay with that. :-)
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