Category: Children

The First Snow

 

The first thing I did when I got up this morning was to look out the window to see if we had gotten any of the possible snow that has been talked about over the past few days.  If you look hard, like between the cracks of our brick walkway out back, or on our roof, you can see a little faint dusting of snow.  It’s just a tiny bit, but it would have been enough at one time to keep up our old family tradition.

 

My mind goes back on this cold morning to other cold mornings of my childhood.  I remember how Mom would always be up very early, faithfully fixing breakfast for Dad before he left for his job at the railroad station nearby.  Then she would do the same for us, getting five breakfasts ready for us kids before we left for school……and somehow getting herself ready to head out the door for her own job.

 

But in the fall or early winter, there was often one magical morning that we would wake up to the sound of Christmas music.   Christmas music didn’t start playing at our house full time until after Thanksgiving.  One holiday at a time, please, in the King household.  However, there was one moment that Christmas music was played before the allowed time…….one day that it was perfectly fine to hear the early strains of We Wish You a Merry Christmas.

 

That time was on the occasion of the very first snowfall.  It didn’t matter if the first snowflakes fell in October.  If there was a bit of snow falling from the sky, Mom would put on a Christmas record……and if it was in the morning, we would wake up to the sounds of Christmas in the house.  And we knew…..we knew without even getting out of bed……that there was snow on the ground.  Of course, we would rush to the windows to see if there was enough to allow us to stay home from school, but there rarely was.

 

Mom and Dad loved snow.  Even when we all moved away from home, there was that one special day that our phone would ring and when we answered we would only hear a Christmas song being played.  None of us would have to guess or wonder what that was about.  We knew!  It was Mom and Dad announcing with delight that they had gotten the first snowfall of the season.  We all had a little contest going, hoping that we would beat them to the punch and be the one to call first with that Christmas music playing loudly, holding the phone up to the speakers so that they could clearly hear it.   Then we would put the phone to our ear and hear them say, “You got snow?!”  Yes, we got snow and it’s so beautiful, and on and on we would go…..laughing as if this was the greatest day ever.  And it was, in a sense, for Mom and Dad passed their love of snow on to all five of us children……and it was simple and sweet and so much fun to share that first snowfall of the season tradition over the years.

 

But it makes me a little sad this morning to know that I can’t call Mom to share my first little snowfall with her.  Well, I could call her…..but she would wonder who I am…..and why am I playing that music to her……and just what is that song, anyway?  Mom has Alzheimer’s and she doesn’t remember our old family tradition.  She doesn’t even remember our family.  So a phone call like that would only frustrate and confuse her, and would be upsetting to me as well.

 

I’m thankful for the sweet memories, though.  For the special traditions that our family had, as all families do.  I’m thankful that during the time Dad was dying of cancer, God allowed him to enjoy lots of snow during that November.  I remember him sitting in his wheel chair at their sliding glass doors, watching the snow and enjoying the hungry birds crowding their bird feeders on the deck.  Thankful that he got to see the beautiful Christmas tree all decorated the way he loved and listen to the pretty Christmas music.

 

It makes me realize how much we need to cherish our families and our times together, for it all goes by so quickly.  We live together for such a very short time before everyone scatters.  Brothers, sisters, children…..living here and there in this busy world.  So build the bonds of family strong while the children are young……develop the traditions…..and stay in touch over the years.

 

Merry Christmas, everyone!  It’s a little early, but there IS some snow on the ground.  If you look real hard, you can see it.  But it’s enough.

What Wasn’t and What Was and What Should Have Been


We’ve had a few interesting days with Aaron.  I think the older that Aaron becomes, the more evident his autism behaviors are.  And boy, we’ve seen some good ones recently!  I’m using “good” in a loose sense.   I’ve never been the kind of mom that tries to blame my child’s poor behavior on anything other than his willful disobedience.  “Yes, I know my child destroyed your flower bed, but he’s just tired.  He didn’t have his nap today.”  Nope, that was not me.  But with Aaron, we see more clearly with each year that his behaviors are indeed the result of something that we sometimes barely understand and can rarely control.  Of course, some things he does are very funny or amazing…..but not always.  
Take the fishing trip that wasn’t.  Rosie’s mom had told me about Fishing Without Boundaries several weeks ago, but I dismissed it as something that Aaron wouldn’t want to do.  He doesn’t like to fish…..he doesn’t like being out in the heat all day…..he doesn’t like crowds for long periods…..he doesn’t like his routine messed up.  I’m not being negative.  I just know Aaron.  But there’s one thing I didn’t take into account…..Rosie.
I was in the garden a couple weeks ago when Aaron came home from his day group.  I looked up when I heard the back door open and heard Aaron’s unmistakable, “Mom!!”  I looked up to see him marching resolutely across the yard toward the garden….and me.  “Mom!!” he repeated.  “I’m going fishing!!!”  He was so excited, and I was so surprised.  It took me awhile to figure it out, but I eventually learned that Aaron wanted to go to the Fishing Without Boundaries event at El Dorado Lake.  
Over the next couple days I talked to Aaron about the logistics of that day, including the very early morning.  I was positive and upbeat, and Aaron was determined to go on this fishing outing……..not because of his love of fishing or the lake or the great outdoors, but because Rosie would be there.  He wanted to spend this day with Rosie, doing what Rosie enjoyed.  So we filled out the form, ordered his tee shirt, and sent in the money for his big weekend.  
I saw a little crack in his armor when, a couple days before the big day, he began to worry about the very early time to meet his ride.  So I told him that we would take him to the lake and could go later in the morning with no problem.  All seemed well.  But on Friday, the day before the fishing trip, he woke up rather worried.  He told me that he wasn’t sure about the fishing…..he wasn’t sure about being gone all day……he wasn’t sure about not being home doing what he enjoys.  In other words, he had decided not to go.  I knew it for sure, but I didn’t want to give in too easily.  Yet as we talked, and I saw him getting tense, I knew I had to give him an out….or we would all pay.  So I told him that he didn’t HAVE to go fishing.  Everyone would understand.  
But the only person that Aaron worried about disappointing was Rosie.  I felt badly for him as I saw the struggle that he was having.  He wanted to be with her, but he didn’t want to leave his weekend routine.  He came so close to going, and it was really disappointing that he didn’t quite make it…..but maybe next time, although we have said that same thing for years about various trips and events to which he says a definite, “No!”
On Saturday, Aaron said, “Do you think that Rosie misses me?”  And I felt sad for him.  Then later, “Was it my fault that I didn’t go?”  I knew he was struggling with his decision.  And finally, in the evening, he said, “I feel like I betrayed Rosie.”  That one made me really feel sad, but we talked about it and I could only hope that he felt some peace about his decision.   His routine and his way of doing life is the most important thing in the world to him…..but when he has a reason, a big reason like Rosie, to interrupt his routine….it’s so tempting and he wants so much to be able to make himself comply.  Then he struggles when he just can’t do it.  And we can’t force him to go…..or take away the guilt he had about not going.
So that’s the fishing trip that wasn’t.  And then we had the friends that were…..as in, were here for a visit or to join us for supper.  But Aaron wished that they were also friends that weren’t…..as in, weren’t here for a visit or to join us for supper.  This is when his autism becomes frustrating……humbling (to Gary and me)……and oh, so embarrassing!
First came Kristi, our sweet friend that we have known for 20 years.  Kristi’s dad was our pastor when we lived in Leavenworth, and our families became good friends.  She is now a missionary in France, and is here in the states for five months of furlough.  She is in the Wichita area for awhile, and so she spent Thursday night with us.  Aaron greeted her at the car when she arrived, even carrying her heaviest suitcase upstairs to the bedroom where she stayed…..as he complained all the while that he was not her servant.
He was up and down emotionally with her for the rest of the evening.  He wanted us to watch Wheel of Fortune with him, which we did…..though we turned it on a little late.  He wanted us all to take Jackson on a walk, even handing Kristi the leash to hold.  And he walked a second time around the circle with just me and Kristi, minus the dog.  He would pop up at various times to talk to me and to Kristi, usually about a movie.  But in the midst of it all, he was also rude several times.  He informed Kristi that she was not his boss…..though she wasn’t being bossy…..or she was not his mom.  It’s like he needs to be in charge, controlling his world at home when someone else is there.  A visitor becomes an interloper…..an annoyance…..when Aaron’s schedule is disrupted.  One minute he can be chattering happily and the next he just might puff up and be very rude.  Kristi took it in stride, as our friends always do.  Gary and I are the ones who are the most affected.  Kristi understood and we talked the next day about it after Aaron was gone.  Still, it’s frustrating.  Explainable, but embarrassing.
And then there was Saturday, when I asked our elderly neighbor, Nora, to come over and have supper with us.  Nora is recently widowed, and on Saturday she found out that an assisted living apartment will be opening in one month.  She is overwhelmed with moving.  I felt like she needed company that evening…..some food and talking and laughter.  But there was Aaron, who for some reason has decided that he doesn’t like little Nora.  And he especially decided that he didn’t like Nora coming to our house for supper on this Saturday evening.
Thankfully, Nora can’t hear very well so she didn’t comprehend all of Aaron’s muttered comments.  But she heard enough to know that he was displeased with her being there.  One thing led to another, and by the time we sat down to watch Wheel of Fortune (of course!), Aaron had had enough.  It was not a pleasant scene as he fought over keeping the remote, paced the floor like a wild animal, and was very verbal.  Finally, he yelled at Nora with all his might and stormed outside…..where he sat in the mulch to wind down.  He sat under the pecan tree, where he never sits, but where he was more hidden and farther from the house…..and from his problems. 
Again, our friend understood…..but I knew she was hurt.  We were hurt…..and terribly embarrassed.  It was the worst display of anger toward a visitor that we had ever seen.  Aaron came in and out of the house, even watching the last few minutes of Wheel of Fortune from the kitchen, standing there gazing at the television but not talking to us.  When I walked Nora home, Aaron sat under the pecan tree still breaking mulch…..and glaring silently at me when I walked past him to go home.  Later that night, we were able to talk to Aaron about friendships…..about how to treat our friends…..about how we treat his friends.  I think we made some headway as we compared our friends to his special Rosie, and the importance of being polite and kind.  What if we were mean to Rosie, we asked?  That thought seemed to register with him.
But who knows what will happen when Aaron is once again pulled from his routine?  We might see when Kristi comes back this Thursday night, brave soul that she is.  Aaron wants everything to stay the same in his world, and he will react strongly to whatever disrupts that sameness…..whether it be an event or a person.  Aaron doesn’t care if he hurts with his words.  He just wants his life to be the way he likes it.  I can say that he is selfish, rude, inappropriate…..lots of undesirable traits…..but I can also say with confidence that he is autistic and that we see it more clearly with every passing year.  What registers with our brains does not register with his.  What we can control, he cannot.  If he fell down into a seizure, we would be so empathetic.  But when he falls into an emotional meltdown, empathy becomes anger and embarrassment.  Yet both scenarios are an evidence of his disability……and a struggle for us to always understand and handle correctly.
And I realize that I will always be that mom……THAT mom……who tries to explain his behaviors while wondering if I’m sounding like I’m trying to excuse them.  There’s a huge difference there in the two.  Explaining means we grasp at understanding.  Excusing means we dismiss with no repercussions.  But in explaining I feel that we sound like we we’re excusing.  It gets complicated.
So this morning Aaron got up very early for him.  He came up the hall and into the room where I was having my quiet time.  He just stood there behind my chair, looking at me, so I said, “Aaron, you need to go back to bed.  It’s just 6:00.”
“6:11,” he said with no emotion.
And another day with Aaron has begun, as I smile…..and see what the day will hold.

My Wormy Cucumber…..and Aaron


Last night was a seizure night for Aaron.  We are so thankful that he doesn’t have constant daily seizures like our friend’s son, Elijah, has.  I told Wendy this morning that I don’t know how she does it apart from God’s grace.  I know that each of us who know the Lord depend on His grace for the many circumstances that we face in this life.  Having a suffering child is tough.  When Aaron has seizures is when I feel most vulnerable emotionally.  His autism is high functioning, though in its own way debilitating, but he at least can function.  His autism makes him at times very frustrating and it causes him to be in trouble more than we like, both here at home and at his day group.  Or then he can also be very endearing and funny, even hilarious.
But his seizures……they make me sad.  They show me the seriousness of Epilepsy…..the danger.  I may be vulnerable emotionally on these days, but he is vulnerable physically.  And as his mother, that scares me….and makes my heart hurt. 
However, I know from experience over the years that I cannot dwell on the scary or on the negative, even when it comes to my son…..my first born.  Being aware is one thing.  Being defeated with constant worry is quite another.  And constant regret……that’s one thing that I very consciously pull my mind away from when it starts down that path.  I would love for Aaron to have a normal life, a job, a wife and children…but he doesn’t and he probably never will.  Living with regret over those issues only pulls me down and doesn’t do anything to help Aaron.  Plus it’s not honoring to God, Who wants me to trust Him in all things.  That means ALL.  Even Aaron, my son, and my hurt over his pain and difficulties. 
 
Aaron slowly made it downstairs this morning after his three seizures.  He tried to stay up and awake but as is typical for him, he laid back down on the couch and fell promptly asleep.  I covered him with his favorite blanket……the animal print blanket…..and he slept deeply until he had another large seizure.  Now he is awake off and on, talking about wanting his coffee that he missed this morning……will it still be hot…….when can he have it……worried that he won’t get to drink it……typical Aaron.
 
Earlier, while he slept and with me being unable to leave this area of the house for fear of another seizure, I stood at the kitchen sink.  I was washing the produce that I had gathered in the garden yesterday evening before dark.  Some tomatoes…..okra…..a red pepper……one pear that I was able to reach from our pear tree……and a few stray cucumbers.  On one of the cucumbers I saw the unmistakable signs of worms.  The brown, crusty spots on the outside of the cucumber were my clue, so I grabbed a paring knife and cut into the peel.  Yep, there it was…..a yucky worm……and then another nearby.  It was tempting to just throw the whole cucumber away, but I’m pretty thrifty about my garden produce that we’ve worked hard to raise.  There was still plenty of good left in that cucumber, so I washed the remainder and put it with the other healthy produce.  Aaron loves cucumbers, so he can eat it later.
 
This might sound strange, but Aaron’s a lot like that wormy cucumber.  He has his issues…..his “worms”……..that disrupt his life.  The autism….the Epilepsy……they have completely changed his life from what we thought it would be.  When placed beside his sister and brother, we can see a stark contrast.  Andrea, a scientist and geneticist in a major lab……and Andrew, working on a professional NHRA pit crew.  Their lives are dreams come true for both of them.  We love hearing about their work, even when we don’t understand half of it.  It’s exciting and fulfilling for them.
Aaron is like that cucumber, yes.  He has some chunks removed……some expectations that we had for him that had to be removed.  But he has amazing value if we but stop and look.  God does NOT create mistakes.  Aaron has tremendous worth.  He draws us to God in ways we probably never would have been drawn otherwise.  He keeps us humble.  Oh, does he ever!!  He keeps us at times bowed down with worry or frustration or embarrassment.  But listen to the verse God gave me this morning:
“But You, O Lord, are a shield about me; my glory, and the lifter of my head.”  (Psalm 3:3)
I love how God gives me what I need, when I need it, from His Word.  He lifts my head to look not only up to Him, but to look at Aaron with new eyes……eyes of faith and trust in the God Who loves Aaron and loves us.  God has a plan for Aaron that is every bit as important and amazing as the plan He has for Andrea and Andrew.  We just don’t always measure Aaron’s value that way, but God does.  And He reminds me on these days that I need to as well.
Aaron……my wormy cucumber……just in this little area of my house, God has once again spoken to my heart.  
Friend who is suffering today, never doubt God’s plan and His love for you.  Let Him be the lifter of your tired head.  He does care…..He does have a plan……for all of us.
Including my wormy Aaron.  My perfect Aaron, with lots of good in him that God is using. 

Caterpillars and Butterflies


This morning I read another small section of Elisabeth Elliott’s book Keep a Quiet Heart.  In the chapter entitled There Are No Accidents, Elisabeth talks about interviewing Judy Squier.  Judy was born with no legs, so Elisabeth asked Judy to write a letter to the parents of a little boy born without arms or legs.  I quote from part of the letter that Judy wrote to these parents:
“’What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Creator calls a butterfly.’  As humanity we see only the imperfect, underside of God’s tapestry of our lives.  What we judge to be ‘tragic – the most dreaded thing that could happen,’ I expect we’ll one day see as the awesome reason for the beauty and uniqueness of our life and our family.”
She goes on…….the whole section is excellent and struck a deep chord in my heart.  But my mind has been on that caterpillar and butterfly all day.  You see, last November I wrote a blog about how Aaron found a butterfly and how he wanted me to hold it.  It was a special moment for me that taught me such a sweet lesson.  Today I’m thinking of other aspects of that butterfly……who was first a caterpillar.
 
I’m thinking of the day that we first heard Aaron’s diagnosis of Epilepsy.  I remember how shattered I felt as I sat at my desk that night in Germany.  Our little blond headed blue eyed son had what?  Epilepsy?  What does it mean?  What WOULD it mean?  And I cried, deep sobs of pain and acceptance.  Nine years later……another doctor, another place, yet another diagnosis.  Autism?  Asperger’s Syndrome?  What does it mean?  What WOULD it mean?  And again, when the children were asleep, I cried deep sobs of more pain and more acceptance.
Pain and acceptance have been our familiar companions all along this journey with Aaron.  I know that many other parents feels this pain, some more acutely and more severely than we ever will.  The pain of medical tests….the pain of medicines for this and more medicines for that….the pain of hospitals…….the pain of IEP’s in school…..the pain of moving and having to introduce our child all over again in our new world…..the pain of his questions…..the pain of peer rejection……the pain of trying to understand what makes him tick and what just ticks him off, and why……the pain of my guilt when I blow it and I erupt along with Aaron…..the pain of questioning God……
Pain comes naturally.  Acceptance is a decision that I make.  Acceptance is usually slower.  It certainly has been for me.  Maybe he’ll get all better with time.  Maybe the seizures will go away after puberty.  Maybe this new drug will do the trick.  Maybe he can have surgery.  Maybe the VNS will kick in.  Maybe it’s not really as serious as all that.  Maybe the autism will improve with this diet.  Maybe those guys will be Aaron’s friend.  Maybe Aaron won’t move so much and talk so much during church today.  Maybe he won’t be grouchy when his bus comes to pick him up today.  Maybe he’ll just love his day group.  Maybe he can hold a job one day and be like everyone else.  Most of the maybes don’t happen…….and acceptance slowly sinks in.  Reality of life with Aaron has been slow going……very slow going.
But it’s not the end of the world.  It may the end of the world as we know it as far as our hopes for Aaron in certain areas……….but just like that caterpillar, there is beauty in this life that God has given us.  “What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Creator calls a butterfly.”  I held a butterfly that day last fall as I stood outside with Aaron, and I hold a butterfly in my life as I look at Aaron.  That’s because God is sovereign, and He has a plan for Aaron and a plan for our life with Aaron.  It’s a plan of beauty, even when I can’t see it as such.  
 
I have to hold on to that truth on the bad days, the sad days, the worried days, the heart-rending days of this life.  Oh, we have laughter and delight with Aaron but underneath it all are the concerns and the frustrations and the weight of always thinking about our special son.  And I deeply feel the weight of so many other moms……friends that I love and friends that I hurt for as well as they fight this fight and live this life for their special children.  
I want to tell them that God is weaving a beautiful tapestry of their lives.  They don’t feel it or see it any more than I do on many days, but God truly is a God of purpose and beauty.  So we lift each other up, we cry together, we pray for each other, we try to encourage one another……and we trust our sovereign Heavenly Father even when He doesn’t seem to answer our prayers in the way we want.
Acceptance…..of Who God is…..and how much He loves me and He loves Gary, and Andrea and Andrew…..and especially our special Aaron.  I want to hug my other moms of special children…..Wendy, Goldie, Shikara, Cheryl, Trish, Louise, and so many others.  I want to say that I may not have great words of wisdom, but I do have the truth….as do you…..that God is in charge of making caterpillars into butterflies.  
And He can…..He will………bring beauty into and out of our lives with our special children. 

Aaron and Rosie Go To Lunch


Many of you have kept up over the past few years with the story of Aaron and Rosie.  I will put links for my other Aaron and Rosie blogs at the bottom of this blog.  Aaron and Rosie met at Paradigm, the day group that they both attended, and they developed a special friendship.  Now Rosie attends another day group, but they still see each other for a short time at the end of their day, and they ride together in the van that brings Aaron home at the end of the day and then takes Rosie to her house. 
Aaron has to be told over and over not to give Rosie food or money or her very favorite thing in all the world…….crayons.  He will do any of these things at any given opportunity.  His favorite thing to do was to sit with her on Fridays at the theater and share his popcorn with her.  They would do this every Friday, so when I first told Aaron that Rosie was going to a different day group, he thought for a few seconds and then said, “No theater?”  I cried.  And he didn’t see that, just like he can’t see what he does so often to my heart.
For several days now, Aaron has told Gary and me about a new client at Paradigm.  J. has come into Aaron’s world in a rather unwelcome way.  He doesn’t mind new clients, and has learned a lot about getting along with new people.  I don’t know if the Paradigm staff would agree with that, but that’s how it seems to us.  Anyway, according to Aaron, the reason that he is rather unwelcoming of J’s friendship is because she told Aaron that her boyfriend had broken up with her……and then asked Aaron if he would be her boyfriend.  
Well, this has created a huge dilemma for Aaron.  He has talked and talked about this situation with Gary and me.  It seems so simple to us to follow the advice that we give to Aaron as we tell him to just not take J so seriously.  Just tell her that he wants to be her friend.  Just tell her no when she asks him to be her boyfriend.  Just be nice to her but don’t………what was that?  She told you to hold her hand?  Yeah, well, just don’t do that either, Aaron.
Aaron is so perceptive.  Just yesterday he said, “Mom, J. is faking it.  I said my stomach hurt and she said, ‘Let me hold your hand, Aaron.’”  Gary and I laughed and laughed at that one, but it’s really amazing to think that Aaron knew J was using his stomach ache as an inroad to hold his hand.  Way to go, Aaron!
Another aspect of this boyfriend/girlfriend problem is that Aaron really does see Rosie as that one special girl in his life.  He doesn’t like for her to be called his girlfriend or for him to be called her boyfriend, but he does see her as his one special girl…….who is a friend.  Rosie’s parents, Louise and Leroy, and Gary and I don’t want to make Rosie and Aaron’s friendship a boyfriend/girlfriend thing either…..but we do enjoy the relationship they have.
So along has come J and she is causing come conflict in Aaron’s heart.  Just today Aaron asked Gary, “Dad, what do you think’s wrong with J?  She’s trying to make me go away from Rosie!”  And once again, Gary tried to explain it all to Aaron and give him some answers.
His comments about Rosie are so sweet………so insightful.  A couple days ago, speaking of Rosie, he said, “I found someone who likes me and agrees with me on things.”  And don’t we all know that those are two characteristics that attracted each of us to our special someone?
And then there was this concise statement that Aaron made about Rosie:  “Me and Rosie……we’re connected.”
This melts my heart.  We want Aaron to have that special someone in his life, on whatever level is best and suitable for both of them.  Their relationship is sweet and it is typical for them, where they are in their special lives……and that is enough.
That’s why today was a special day for Aaron and for Rosie, for Louise and for me.  On Thursday Aaron stood in the kitchen while I finished cooking supper.  He was once again talking about his rock and his hard place………Rosie and J.   Then he asked, “Mom!  Can we go to Burger King this weekend with Rosie and her mom?”  My first thought was to think of several reasons why we probably couldn’t do that, but the look on Aaron’s face and the pleading in his voice stopped me in my tracks.
I thought of how much Aaron depends on us for his social life.  He can’t drive and he can’t make these events happen without our help and our permission.  How would I like to live that way?  And I’ve seen more and more that Aaron is so perceptive about life and about people, much more than we give him credit for.  How can I turn a blind eye and a hard heart to his desire for a normal “date” with Rosie?  How can I not make that happen for him?   So I quickly texted Louise and she quickly texted back, and soon we had agreed to meet at Burger King on Sunday at 1:00, Aaron and Rosie in tow. 
Louise said that Rosie was very excited when she saw Aaron and I pull up and then walk across the parking lot.  Rosie and Aaron didn’t really greet each other, but both of them were talking up a storm……..not to each other as much as to me and Louise.  As we ate our lunch it was like watching a tennis match.   Back and forth, back and forth went the conversation.  Aaron loves to talk, as we know, and Rosie loves to tell of things she has seen and places she has been and things that have happened.  Rosie likes for her mom to do a lot of the telling, but she contributes plenty…….and Aaron rarely stops talking, loudly, so it was a lively lunch.  
 
It’s so interesting to see Aaron and Rosie together.  Both of them are chronological adults but are so much like children when it comes to life and to friendship issues.  They don’t mind having their shared lunch with their moms.  It’s all they know and it’s all they expect……and want.  They see nothing odd about it at all.  I wonder what others in Burger King thought.  I hope they saw it as a wonderful moment for our adult “kids.”  Some normalcy in their all too restrictive world.
Look at Rosie and Aaron smile!
I’m so happy that I said yes to Aaron’s request, and I’m so happy that Louise took her time to bring Rosie to meet us for lunch.  To meet Aaron for lunch!  Being a parent is all about meeting the needs of our kids, and for us parents of special needs kids, the meeting of those needs may even extend into adulthood.  That’s the way it is and so we may as well accept it and enjoy it when we can.
As we drove away, Aaron was already planning a movie date.  It’s a good thing I like movies!  I hope Louise does!

Some of my Rosie and Aaron blogs:

http://hesaidwhatks.blogspot.com/2011/10/aaron-and-rosie.html 
http://hesaidwhatks.blogspot.com/2012/09/only-for-rosie.html

http://hesaidwhatks.blogspot.com/2012/11/the-very-special-birthday-gift.

 http://hesaidwhatks.blogspot.com/2013/04/rosies-birthday-dinner.html

 http://hesaidwhatks.blogspot.com/2013/07/what-rosie-did.html

Mother’s Recipes


I’m a child of the 50’s and 60’s.  It was for the most part still a time of innocence and good old fashioned values.  Growing up on North Third Street in Princeton, West Virginia was an experience that I dearly treasure.  There at nearly the top of third street sat our house, with large maple trees out front and apple trees in the back.  We were surrounded by neighbors, most with kids the age of us King kids.  I remember riding bikes, skating, playing hop scotch and jumping rope in the street, sledding in the winter down the Lockhart’s hill, climbing trees, having sleepovers with friends, and playing kick-the-can until our parents called us in at night.  It was a wonderful, carefree childhood. 
Certain sounds and smells carry me back to that time.  When I smell fresh mowed grass, I think of Saturdays when Dad or John would mow the lawn.  Then I can almost smell Mom’s pinto beans, onions, cornbread, and fresh tomatoes out of their garden.  That was a summer Saturday routine at our house.  So many of the highlights of my youth seem to end up in our kitchen where Mom worked her magic.  Our kitchen was the heart of our home.  We cooked and ate and talked and laughed and cried in that one room. 
Of all the things that my mother did so very well, I think her cooking is the thing that we and others remember the most.  Mom was an expert seamstress, a great organizer of our home, a responsible director of the school food service programs in nine WV counties in later years, a college graduate, and she was a beautiful soloist.  But oh, her cooking……
I can still see our kitchen table overflowing with her homemade rolls, ready for her to package and put in the freezer.  She cooked in bulk and cooked ahead because she was just that organized.  Down in our basement, there were two upright freezers full of all sorts of goodies and essentials.  Not only did she freeze, and also can, garden vegetables and fruits, she also made endless dozens of cookies and then froze them in empty coffee cans.  Who can count the number of trips we kids must have made to those freezers, where we would open the door, crack open the coffee can lid, and snatch a frozen cookie…….and then breathe into it as we held it in our mouth, our breath thawing each bite just enough as we ran back outside to our play.
Inside those freezers were stacks of her homemade pizza crusts, each crust separated by waxed paper from the one underneath.  There were little bags of frozen homemade pizza sauce in just the right proportion for each pizza, as well as bags of frozen toppings such as cooked hamburger or sausage, pepperoni, and cheese.  Her pizza was the best!
I’ll never forget how she would bake hamburger on large sheet pans and then cut our hamburgers into squares.  And because you shouldn’t put a square hamburger on a round bun, she made her own square buns.   She even made hot dog buns, and somehow got the recipe for Dairy Queen chili, to boot!
Who of us can forget preparing for Thanksgiving dinner?  Mom’s Cranberry Jello Salad was a staple every year.  She would let each of us kids take a turn at her food grinder, dividing up the cranberries and the whole orange slices equally between us.  We would then turn the handle of the grinder as we listened to the popping of the cranberries and the squishing of the oranges.  The experience is just not the same now with the whirring motors of our food processors.  But it all comes back to me in a rush every time I taste that salad in my own kitchen.
Sunday dinners were always a large affair, with a roast or maybe some fried chicken, and all the fixings.  Often we would have a pastor or a visiting missionary eat with us.  Then we would eat in the dining room and use her good china.  She even had autumn china that had leaves on it, which I thought was pretty amazing.  She taught us the proper way to set a table…….fork on the left, knife on the right with the serrated edge facing the plate, and then the spoon. Drinking glass on the right, above the knife and spoon.  We all knew Mom’s strict rules, too.  Do NOT take seconds until the guests have had seconds.  Do NOT put your elbows on the table.  Do NOT interrupt the conversation.  And by all means, do NOT look at each other and start laughing during dinner!!  That was the hardest one to obey, trust me!  Laughter was always just seconds away at our house.  
  
Sometimes when money was low at the end of the month, Mom would make fried mush for us to eat.  We just loved it, all buttery and soft.  Mom was embarrassed, though, and we never understood why until we were older.  And sometimes after church on a Sunday night, we would all sit around the table and drink her wonderful hot chocolate while we ate buttered toast.  
We never left for school in the mornings without breakfast.  But it wasn’t only breakfast that Mom made sure we had.  She would also have us open our Bibles with her, and she would then read the devotional Our Daily Bread with us before we left to hurry off to school.  We would follow along with the scripture in our Bibles as she read, and then we would listen to her read the devotion, and we would pray.  
I have some of my mother’s recipes.  Actually, I have many of her recipes.  I spent a year at home between college graduation and marriage, so I took lots of time at home to copy her recipes.  Most are in my hand writing.  
 
I especially treasure the ones that are in her handwriting.  They are bent and stained and are becoming hard to read as they fade with time, but I would NOT trade them for the best typed recipe in the world.  Not at all!  For her handwriting makes me feel that I have a part of her with me each time I use that recipe.  
 
Our mother gave each of us, however, the most important recipe there could ever be.  She taught us how to live, teaching us about the proper ingredients and the instructions of living life in the right way.  It went far beyond how to behave at the dinner table when company was there.  It was much more than how to cook a meal, clean off the table, and wash the dishes in the unique way that she followed………and that I bet each of us girls still follow today.
Our mother taught us how vital it was that we ask Christ to be our Lord and our Savior, which we each did at an early age.  She made sure that we knew the importance of beginning our day with time in the Bible and in prayer.  Dad left for work very early so it was up to Mom to be sure that happened……and she faithfully did just that, even when she had to go to work as well.  She taught us to consult the Bible about decisions; to let God have the final say when we wondered what to do about all the issues we faced as we grew up; and to be faithful in attending church, not letting any other activity be more important in our lives.
She taught us girls to be modest, and what to look for in a husband.  Her favorite quote, which she shared many times with me, was – “God gives His very best to those who leave the choice with Him.”  She taught us to handle life’s good times with thankfulness and the bad times with trust.  And she showed us how to handle any situation…….ANY and ALL situations…….with humor.  
Her recipes for life are hidden in our hearts, not written on a card and tucked away in a file.  Her five children, and hopefully our children, carry those values with us every day.  Those instructions are seen in our decisions, our values, our attitudes, our hopes, and most certainly in our laughter.  
Our mother doesn’t know us now.  She doesn’t remember Dad.  She is struggling with some health issues and with Alzheimer’s.  But the ingredients with which she raised us are, and always will be, a part of us.  Her life is bearing fruit in her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren.  It’s a sweet savor, more wonderful than the smell of her fresh baked rolls.
            “She looks well to the ways of her household, and does not eat the bread of
            idleness.  Her children rise up, and call her blessed.”

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.  We love you.

Unconditional Love in the Storms

A couple weeks ago, Gary and I returned home from church and sat down to eat lunch.  We knew there might be some storms that day, but the view outside our kitchen window was of a somewhat cloudy sky with more sun than clouds.  Soon, though, we heard rumbles and noticed the wind picking up in intensity.  As we sat there, we literally watched a storm forming to our west.  The clouds darkened and built in volume, and the thunder increased along with the lightning.  It was fascinating and awesome to see the changes happen so quickly.  The power was unstoppable.  Soon there was some rain and then hail that pelted our roof and yard.  The storm didn’t last long, but the effects were felt all day as the temperatures decreased by over 40 degrees in a very short time. 
 

The whole process seemed so sudden to us, but the ingredients for this stormy day had been building up in the atmosphere for much longer than what we saw on the ground.  The storm formed quickly because the necessary storm components were there all along…….far away out west of us, and far up in the sky above us.  We bore the brunt of the strong winds, the vivid lightning, the loud thunder, and the driving rain and hail.  The actual storm didn’t last long but the coldness lingered all that day and into the next.

 
How we handled the storm and the ensuing hours afterwards made a huge difference in our peace and comfort.  I ran around closing windows while Gary took care of some matters outside.  Later, as the cold set in, we changed clothes and dressed warmly.  Aaron and I put on jackets that evening when I drove him to Sonic for a burger.  Simple matters, yes, but necessary for us during that change.

I’m pondering all this as I’ve had a morning with Aaron.  Those of you who know us through this blog, or through family and friendship, know what I mean by that statement.  Aaron was fine earlier today, but when it was time to go to Paradigm he reacted heatedly with anger and words.  He pounded on a door once, but nothing major, as I talked to him softly and tried to steer him through his anger.  I let him decide what he would do today…….stay home or go to Paradigm.  He knew that staying home had its own consequences, though I didn’t mention them.  He also knew that going to his group had consequences for him as well.  He would have to get out and be around people on a bad day; have to obey rules; have to get away from his computer and maybe go somewhere that doesn’t thrill him.

He eventually chose to go to Paradigm, but he was very much on the edge of a full melt-down.  God gave me grace, seriously, to remain calm and soft with Aaron.  It wasn’t easy.  His words were not nice.  They weren’t aimed at me personally, but they were not good words.  He was coming along as we drove to Quik-Trip and listened to some of his favorite music.  I knew that his ride would be late since we had cancelled earlier, and then changed our minds, so as I pulled into the parking lot I asked him if he wanted a sausage biscuit.  He was surprised at that offer……taken off guard with kindness when he knew that he had every right to expect punishment.  We left the store a few minutes later with his treasured sausage biscuit AND some Skittles.  And a softening Aaron.

As we waited for his ride and listened to more music, I saw that Aaron was having trouble with an itch on his back.  I had him lean forward and I scratched his back.  Then I tickled his back, which he dearly loves, and he calmed noticeably.  He talked and smiled.

“It’s just that I didn’t want to go to Paradigm today,” he said.  I assured him that I knew that as I smiled, and he just relaxed under my hand on his back.  Soon his ride came and he willingly got in their van with his kind staff.  Just a few minutes ago, Barb sent me this picture of Aaron on her couch at Paradigm.  He’s happy with his food and he’s happy with those there that care for him, and hopefully he will have a good day after all.
 

The storm blew in so quickly this morning.  I literally watched it form in Aaron’s room when I told him it was time to get off his computer.  I know that the storm ingredients were building in his mind for some time, unseen by me but there nonetheless.  I bore the brunt of the storm as I heard Aaron’s words and tensed as he hit the door. 

But how I reacted………how I handled this storm……….made a huge difference in our peace and comfort.  I do not say this to my own credit.  It is seriously the hand of God’s grace reaching down and calming me in the midst of confusion and anger.  I knew what would happen if I yelled at Aaron or if I gave him impossible ultimatums at that point.  It was best to help him work through this process while gently pointing out the repercussions of his decisions. 

And one more thing.  It was a time for me to practice unconditional love for my sometimes impossible son.  Unconditional……..meaning ‘not limited.’  Oh, how hard that love sometimes is!  All of us as parents can attest to this truth.  My love for Aaron is not limited to his good days……..when he makes me laugh and he obeys willingly and is polite and doesn’t even whack me on the back…..much.

Nope.  This unconditional love is for the stormy times like I faced today.  It’s a love that sees Aaron for who he is at these volatile times, and it’s a love that bundles up in the cold that sometimes follows these storms.  It’s a love that gives him a good old “A#1 back scratching,” as my dear dad called them.  I may have felt like giving his back a resounding slap, but the back scratch and the back tickle worked much better……..because it showed love and warmth to my frustrated boy.

I was at an event recently where I saw the long-term effects of a love that has been conditional.  A love based on limits and on who I am, and what I have or have not done.   This sort of limited love produces coldness and pain, not warmth and healing.  It gives no room for forgiveness and growth.  No hope of reconciliation.  How utterly sad………how wasted and unnecessary. 

I don’t want that to be true of me in my relationships with anyone, and definitely not with my children.  All of us parents know a thing or two about unlimited love………..loving our children through the good and the bad……..the pride and the disappointments. 

And those of us with special needs children, especially special needs that cause behavior issues, can attest to how difficult unconditional love can be.  Yet how rewarding to see the results of this love and to know that in the long run, we will reap more through love than through anger and harshness.  Sometimes we need to enforce discipline, but always with love and with forgiveness in store. 

When I fail at this, which I have done more times than I can count, I have the love of my Heavenly Father.  His love is always, always unconditional toward me……….and I’m so very glad that it is, because I blow it so often.   It’s through Him that I have learned what true, unlimited love is.  And through Him alone that I can practice this love…….most of the time………with Aaron.

I hope that the storm is totally gone when Aaron comes home.  I hope the temperatures are warm and the mood is bright.  But if not……

I’ll get out the back scratcher and grab Aaron’s floor pillow and get to work on his back.  No hugs for Aaron but a good back tickle should work.   

And I’ll tell him that I love him, though he rarely says those words back to me. 

Unconditionally.

God’s Gift…..Baffled But Blessed

 I was reading 2 Kings 4 yesterday – the story of the Shunamite woman.  It’s a story you may know, but what I read in my commentary/devotional book by Dale Ralph Davis gave me a new insight that totally blessed me……..so I hope it will do the same for you as well.  You probably know the story.

Elisha often passed through Shunem on his travels through Galilee.  A Shunamite woman of wealth and standing began opening her home to Elisha, extending her hospitality by offering him food and rest.  This woman urged her husband to add a room on to their house, a guest room of sorts where Elisha could spend the night.  During one of those stays, Elisha decided that he wanted to reward the woman for her kindness.  He asked her if he could put in a good word for her to the king or to the captain of the army.

The Shunamite woman said no to Elisha, explaining that she had all that she needed or desired right there in her own community.  But Elisha still wanted to do something to thank this woman, and so Gehazi, Elisha’s servant, reminded him that the Shunamite had no son……….and her husband was very old.  Elisha called the woman back and then proceeded to tell her that by this time next year, she would have a son.  At first she didn’t believe it, but sure enough, to this woman and her old husband a son was indeed born. 

When the son was grown, he went out to the field one day to help his father.  He complained of his head hurting and was carried back to his mother, where he soon died.  He was placed on the guest bed in Elisha’s room, and then the Shunamite rode a donkey to Mt. Carmel, where she found Elisha.  She grabbed his feet and in great distress she reminded him of God’s promise of a son for her.  A promise that now ended because her son was dead.  Elisha returned to her house, and through God’s intervention the son was restored to life.

What so impressed me as I read Davis’ commentary was this:  The Shunamite woman, when asked by Elisha if he could put in a good word for her, said no…..that she had all she needed.  She had no need of a favor or a good word or anything, really.  She had position and money, a husband and a home, and a strong community.  No needs.

Yet at the end of this story, she is very needy as she pleads for Elisha’s help.  What had made her needy?  God’s gift had made her needy.  God had given her a son, a beautiful gift of a son, but through that gift she had now become very needy.  God gave her a gift, but then He took it away.  Does this mean……that God is mean?  Does He enjoy giving good gifts only to enjoy taking them away?  Does He “make glad, only to increase the pain?  Does He lift us up only to drop us all the harder?” (Davis) 

The Shunamite clutched Elisha’s feet and sobbed in bitter distress as she pleaded for his help.  And in her sobs and her distressful pleading, she was exercising faith in God.  The God Whom had so blessed her was now perplexing her and crushing her.  And as Davis said, “What can you do when God’s mercy has turned to malice?  Take the bitter distress and in it keep clutching at the God you don’t understand.  We have a word for that: faith. (Which tells us, by the way, that faith is not serenity.)”

My mind turns to our Aaron when I read these words.  He was such a wonderful gift from God to Gary and me.  We had been married for over five years when he was born.  He was a precious little 6 lb. 4 oz. bundle of blessing to us. Our firstborn!  I knew that no other woman on the earth had ever felt as much joy as I was feeling as I looked at him in my arms.  I was so proud and thankful.  A son!  Boys were rare in our family and there I was, with a son.  A SON!

The days turned into months and the months into years.  Then came the seizures, along with behaviors that only increased with age instead of improving.  School issues, finding doctors, trying all sorts of medicines, friends or lack thereof, sibling problems, the autism diagnosis, endless meetings with professionals, embarrassments, and constant awareness that our life was often rotating around Aaron.  It was overwhelming, and totally not what I thought life would be like for us and our Aaron……our son.

It was often hard to capture that joy and pride I had experienced when he was born.  I loved Aaron……I love him now……but it’s often been through a haze of sadness because of his condition, and frustration because of his behaviors.  As I read what Dale Davis wrote, though, it hit me square in my heart.  God’s gift of Aaron to me has made me needy…..and being needy has made me learn to rely on God in a way I might not have done otherwise. 

 
Like Davis said, I have often found myself clutching at the God that I don’t always understand….and that is called faith.  “Faith is not serenity,” Davis said.  That’s certainly true in my life.  Not only is life with Aaron rarely serene, but the raging questions and disappointments in my heart are anything but serene. 

Is Aaron our thorn in the flesh like Paul had?  Maybe.  I do know that beside certain verses in my Bible I have written Aaron’s name and a date, my signpost of ways that God reached down and spoke to me concerning Aaron issues.  God has certainly used this gift of Aaron to draw me to Himself in a way that perhaps I would not have ever experienced without Aaron in my life. 

I want to remember that phrase……..God’s gift has made me needy.  Needy for God and needy for faith………a faith exercised in sometimes very trying circumstances and a faith exercised without always having answers to my questions. 

Davis said, “……the story is here to reveal your God – the God Who delights to amaze His ‘ordinary’ people with good gifts; Who sometimes baffles us with the mysterious sorrow He brings…..”

God baffles, but He also blesses. 

Much like Aaron does in my life………from baffling to blessing, over and over.     

Yesterday – A Part of Today and Tomorrow

I opened my desk drawer not long ago, pulling it way out and getting a rare glimpse into that dark corner that rarely gets my attention.  I saw the stack of old calendar planners that I had saved.  You know how it is.  I saved them just in case I ever need a piece of information that they might contain.  Maybe the date of a doctor visit or a surgery or a test of some sort.  The ones that I eventually pulled out of two separate drawers went back to 2002.  Seriously?  I had no idea how much time had passed.  Did I really need to keep my planners from 12 years ago? 

 
I gathered the ones together that I had no intention of keeping and decided to take them downstairs to throw them in the kitchen trash can.  But before I did that, as I sat at my desk chair, I opened one of the oldest planners.  I was quickly pulled back in time as I flipped through its pages.  So many memories came rushing in.  I reached for another planner, and another, as I sat there lost in memories. 

We were in the midst of life with busy kids, that’s for sure.  I was homeschooling all three of them, with our friend Amy helping to tutor Aaron.  Then I saw the transitions that we were going through with Aaron as we had him tested, enrolled him in the local high school here, and had him then admitted to a Wichita school for special needs life skill training.  All the appointments that I had written down brought back so many recollections of that time.

 
There were football practices and football games for Andrew.  I remembered all the times that Gary took him to practices, or I did when Gary was at work……as well as the year that Gary helped coach Andrew’s team and the hours they spent together that year.  Then later came the wrestling practices and many wrestling meets.  And after that came track for Andrew.     

With Andrea, it was largely her music that kept us on the road.  Piano and violin lessons, recitals, and special events related to her music.  Then there was the season that she and a friend tried volleyball.  Oh yes, how well we remember that experience! 

All the doctor appointments for each of them, much less for me, were meticulously recorded.  Dentist visits, physicals, wisdom teeth surgery, orthodontist visits for Andrew…………and so many more.   For Aaron, there were the specialists, of course.  The EEGs, the MRIs, the VNS surgery, the five day video EEG in the hospital……..all of it.  I smiled at the ER visit for him when he picked up a snake and it bit his hand.  I remembered that I wasn’t smiling that day.  And his broken wrist surgery was there as well, of course. 

We spent countless hours in the car as I drove them all to their activities, especially Andrea and Andrew.  I drove them to practices……….I drove them to jobs……..I drove Andrea to college in the early days before she got a car.  I drove Andrew to and from our local high school when he went there to finish school, before we got him his truck.  It seems so long ago! 

I saw records of so many church activities for all of us.  Ministry and growth and friendships were all over those pages, for each of us.  And there were other treasures as well, such as the visits from friends or family over the years.  These people arriving on this day and leaving on that day.  Or our trips back home, for many happy visits and then as time passed, the trips that were ruled by sad and hard times. 

I saw the date on which I had written that my dad was starting yet another round of chemo.  Just three little words – Dad starts chemo.  Then a year later, all the blank pages during the month that I stayed in West Virginia with him and mom the month before he died.  The same blank pages were there from the year before when Gary’s mother died……and a year later when Gary’s dad died, two months before I lost my dad.  So many long trips home………so many blank pages when our normal schedule didn’t matter.

These planners that I held in my hands held far more than dates and times and schedules.  They held precious memories of a life that is now in the past for us.  The words in black and white…….the scribbled times and the jotted notes………were full of meaning for me.  But they didn’t hold emotion or feeling.  The feelings are in my heart, stirred alive as I read the facts of our busy life being lived during those active days. 

And I would not take back one second of it!  No written words in a planner can convey the bonding that was occurring during all those endless hours of time spent together………….whether it was in our van, or in a waiting room, or sitting on bleachers, or nursing one back to health after surgery.

Behind all those sterile words on those lined pages, there was sharing.  Talking about relationships as we drove along, or what God would want one of them to think or to do, or what their dreams were.  There was laughter…..so much laughter.  We still laugh about some of those moments today.  If I said to Andrea, “You sophomore or junior?”……she would laugh and laugh about that moment.  Or to Andrew, if I said, “I laugh in the face of G-forces.  HaHaHaHa!!!”……he would laugh, or at least give me a patient smile while he rolled his eyes. 

There was plenty of embarrassment as well, trust me.  Andrew’s embarrassment at having his mother drive him to and from school for several months is the stuff of legend……….but there was a lesson to learn.  The same for Andrea during her first few months of college. 

I wondered, as I read, where I got the energy for those extremely busy days.  I was younger and it was just life, how we did it, and I didn’t think a thing about it.  Now it would be daunting.  Then, it was normal.

While that life is in the past for us now, I know that the time spent together put down roots in their hearts that are still growing today.  What occurred in the past is still a part of their present……our yesterdays are a part of their today’s.  It’s helped them be who they are, and who they are yet to become.  So our yesterdays are also still to be a part of their tomorrows.

To young parents who are now where I was all those years ago, I would say:  Look at your children with fresh eyes.  See and know that one day, in what will seem like the blink of an eye, your little ones will be driving away to begin their own lives.  The time spent with them now can never be reclaimed or lived again.  We can never re-live today.  Each day, each moment, each event, each conversation, will make them into the adult that they are yet to become.

And so many of these moments and these conversations happen in the dailiness of our lives…….the routine that can become too routine and tiring on some days.  Treasure the moments………claim each opportunity to learn and to laugh together. 

Some day you might open up your old planners, if you have them and keep them, and smile at the memories.  Maybe shed a tear or two.  But hopefully you will be mostly thankful for days well spent in the lives of your children and your families. 

I Held A Butterfly

 

I’ve had a bit of an up-and-down weekend for several reasons – finding myself sometimes nostalgic as I think of Gary’s and my role as parents to our three wonderful children.  It’s been the most fulfilling calling of our lives, that’s for sure.  Sometimes challenging, too, as it is for every parent.  Now Andrea and Andrew have moved to other states as they pursue their own callings at this point in their lives………..Andrea in grad school studying genetics, and Andrew living his dream of working for a professional NHRA drag race team. 

 

And we have life with our special Aaron, still living at home and treating us to his unique view of life every single day………whether we totally relish his unique view or not.  For at times his unique take on life may be funny……..or it may be interesting………..or eye-opening………..or tiring……….or maddening.   But never dull.  Never, ever dull.

 

This morning Aaron followed me outside where I was picking up some small branches and sticks that had blown out of our trees.  Aaron was happy that Jackson was out with us, too, as we said goodbye to Gary when he left for work and I continued to look around the yard for more sticks.  Soon I heard Aaron say, “Mom!  There’s a butterfly!”  I turned around to look and there I saw Aaron holding the butterfly in his hand.  He was looking at this beautiful butterfly with awe, just as a small child would do.  Therefore, I did the same………bending over Aaron’s outstretched hand as we both admired the intricate markings and brilliant colorings of this special little creature.  It’s something I probably would not have been doing on this pretty morning had it not been for Aaron.

 

I’ve been thinking about that a lot today.  Last night Gary and I talked to Andrea for a long time about her thesis research……..about the rapid sequencing machine that she is privileged to be using………about her research being presented to the DOD……….about her research being published…………about where she might apply for her PhD studies in genetics……….and so much more.  Andrea’s very interesting studies have opened up a whole new world to Gary and me.

 

With Andrew, it’s been so much fun to experience the world of professional NHRA racing.  It’s been pretty amazing to get an inside view of this life through visiting him as he worked at the race in Texas and then to talk to him about his new life……….the traveling………the drivers and their crews……the inside stories and insights……….the new things he’s experiencing and learning………watching him on television…….and for us to stand in the winner’s circle in Texas while I got to hold the winning trophy, a Wally, for real!

 

And just this morning, I held a butterfly, for real!   I got to stand in our driveway and have Aaron show me his wonderful butterfly, and then let him gently slide the butterfly into my hand so that I could experience holding him myself.  Aaron was as thrilled with this experience as Andrea is with her research and as Andrew is with his job in the NHRA.  Once again, I am reminded of the importance of perspective in these matters, and of how true this perspective is in so many areas of life.  My attitude, my perspective, makes a huge difference in how I view these matters. 

 

In sharing life with Aaron, the seemingly small things become big and important.  Sometimes that’s a good thing………and sometimes not so good.  But just like I am excited about Andrea’s and Andrew’s accomplishments and their lives, I want to also be excited about Aaron’s……….or at least appreciative of Aaron’s life, and often downright awed……..I hope.

 

This wonder that is Aaron……….it’s in a butterfly in the driveway.

 

It’s in him putting his plastic Halloween rat on the dashboard last night as we drove to Sonic for his milkshake………and him hoping that the cashier would surely notice it!

 

It’s in exuberantly asking if the Buffaloes beat the Chiefs in football.  The Buffaloes?

 

It’s in being very excited to be in Papa Murphy’s as we ordered pizza on Saturday……and instantly picking up the container of red pepper, telling me that he put red pepper on his Target pizza the day before.   “It was full of hotness, Mom!!”

 

It’s in the joy of playing a simple game of Skip-Bo.

 

It’s in him sleeping with Mr. Snake that he took from Andrea’s room.

 

It’s in him meticulously writing down the times that he goes to bed every night and the times that he gets up every morning in his special notebook………even when he’s groggy from a seizure.

 

It’s in the necklace that he made for me and that he loved seeing me wear.

 

It’s in plopping on the floor in the middle of the vet’s office to pet Kato, the resident cat.

 

It’s in wearing his slipper socks AND slippers, even with shorts, and not caring one whit how he looks.

 

It’s in happily buying Gary a treat at the grocery store.

 

It’s in watching Wheel of Fortune………and yes, even with his VERY loud clapping and yelling.

 

It’s in his childish excitement about his upcoming birthday.

 

It’s in his pure delight with anything and everything that is even one iota out of the norm…………and him not knowing that he is just that…..out of the norm – unique and amazing.

 

It’s in his final good night hug……either because it’s so sweet……..or it’s because I’m so tired that the hug makes me that much closer to quiet sleep.

 

It’s that last knock on our bedroom door to check for one last time on the weather………and the outdoor temperature………..and whether it’s going to rain during the night…………..and will there be lightening……….and thunder……….and should he leave his blinds up………and he might not read before bed……..

 

It’s one of many reasons that we lock our bedroom door.

 

But not our hearts.  I hope we never lock our hearts to Aaron and to all that he teaches us and opens our eyes to every single day.