Carry On

     I can't believe it is already March, and that Gavin will be graduating from the Pre-K CSA (Classroom for Students with Autism) at the Pawtucketville Memorial Elementary School.  It feels like just yesterday I applied for a transfer to teach at P'Ville so that I could be close to him and be involved in his educational experience and growth.  Gavin will be moving on to a K-2 CSA Program.  We are not sure which school he will be assigned to as of yet.  To say that I don't have anxiety in regards to him moving on would be a lie.  I am anxiety ridden.  Anxiety about him being at a different school, anxiety in regards to his progress.  Anxiety about his transition.
     With March comes kindergarten registration.  The time of year when 4 (soon to be 5) and 5 year old children tour schools with their parents.  The time of year when parents register their babies for kindergarten.  Lately, I have been really sad thinking that I will never get to experience some of the same traditional things with Gavin that I got to experience with his two older brothers.  Last week I saw a family touring our school with their child in hand.  And of course I thought, "how come?"  How come Gavin?  As I was thinking this, a third grader walked past me and said, "Hi Gavin's mom!"   I smiled, said hello, and thought, "That is right, I am Gavin's mom".  My heart then smiled as I thought of how far Gavin has come.
     Running continues to help clear my mind, however, sometimes it also makes me think long and hard  about life's lessons.  During a run last week I was thinking about autism speaking to me.  I then realized that autism speaks to me each and every day.  This is what I sometimes hear............

Dear Paula,
           I entered your life June 29, 2008, however, we weren't formally introduced until almost two years later.  I saw how you looked at me that first year.  I saw your raw emotions, your fear, your guilt, your sadness, your grief.  I witnessed first hand your determination.  Determination to get to know me better, determination to unlock you boy's mind and teach him how to speak.  You won that battle.  Matter of fact, there are many battles that you and I have had.  Some you have won, some you have lost.  I have noticed that over the last two years our relationship has changed.  You have learned not to battle with me anymore.  At times, I do still see your fear, your guilt, your sadness, your grief.  However, I don't see those times as frequently as I used to.  Instead, I see you carry on.  Carry on with unconditional love, acceptance, devotion, and determination.  At times, you despised me.  That look has also faded.  You see, Paula, what you don't realize yet is that you have won the lottery.  The lottery you have won doesn't consist of money.  It consists of priceless life lessons that you will continue to learn from me.  You won the lottery that day in June when Gavin came into your world.  Your chances of winning were 1 in 88, and your boy was that 1.   When your feelings of sadness creep up on you, then take a step back and remember to celebrate.  Celebrate your win. You and I will continue to have long talks as to how to keep unlocking your Gavin's mind.    Continue to look at me with your heart, for your love sees more clearly.  Lastly, continue to carry on.

Your friend,
Autism

     I have come to realize that, yes, I may not get to experience the same things with Gavin as I did with his two older brothers.  Instead I get different experiences, and in my heart different doesn't mean less.  I am learning to take a step back and celebrate my winnings.  Some days are easier then others, but for now I will carry on.

Carrying on,

Paula