Leap of Faith… Learning to let go….
Every year my husband and I celebrate Christmas with both sides of our families, during the day on Christmas Eve we see my husband’s side and then at night on Christmas Eve, we see my family. The entire experience usually proves to be very busy with lots of hustling and bustling about as we are busy preparing meals, opening up presents and catching up with one another that we haven’t seen for awhile. This kind of action typically doesn’t always bode well for our son, who in addition to having cerebral palsy, ADHD, is also on the Autism Spectrum. Knowing the challenges that new sounds, sights, smells and stimulus can present to our son, Erol and I usually make a game time decision regarding how to best orchestrate a plan of action for the various celebrations. For many years, Evan and I opted to stay for a small portion of the time, or not attend at all and would spend the holiday alone together at home. We just couldn’t bear setting him up for possible defeat and frustration when he became overwhelmed and shut down. This year though, since Evan has been doing so well, (nearly tic free for several months) we made the decision to attend the event as a family. This was a huge change for all of us and I was immediately nervous about the challenges it could present. On the short ride over to my brother-in-law’s house, I began to regret my decision. However, I began to consider the two changes that had been made to the traditional way of spending our time together, one was that we were meeting earlier in the day, which was a huge help for Evan as his focusing medication wears off around late afternoon. Secondly, my mother and stepfather would also be attending the event, so having the familiar faces would offer an additional means of support. Having them there also meant that should we need to leave early, we would have a means to do so. I continued to reassure myself that it was time to take a chance, a leap of faith and see what Evan could manage. It was also time to take to see what I could manage as well.
When we arrived at the house, I was amazed at the number of people, the delicious aromas of food being cooked, the various sounds of people talking, laughing and festive music playing. There was a whole lot of action and excitement. Sounds like a wonderful time, right? Yes, for most, but not necessarily for a child who struggles with sensory integration. I continued to reassure myself that I had packed his favorite foods, we had his thera-putty, his favorite book and his Ipad if he wanted to go to a quiet place and decompress for awhile. I continued to scan the room, trying to find a place where he would be grounded and could easily move away from the action if need be. I watched and I waited.
I continued to talk and catch up with friends and family. There was such a jovial feeling, an atmosphere of change, growth and celebration. Some of the guests had come from as far away as Switzerland, Massachusetts and Hawaii so that they could attend the event. Before long, I too was caught up in the fervor of the moment, laughing, talking, eating and even relaxing. Before I realized it, we had been there for several hours. Every time I checked in with Evan he was talking (reciprocal conversation- not just parallel talk) laughing and seemingly having a really good time. He even made friends with my niece’s rescue dog.
At one point in the day, a family friend who is also a learning disabilities teaching consultant came over to chat. She gave me the very best Christmas present possible, she commented on how well Evan was doing with all of the stimulation and hub-bub. Coming from her, it was a HUGE compliment. I relished in the delight knowing that Evan had grown and it was clearly visible to everyone.
Today, I am grateful for having the courage to take such a leap of faith so that my son could experience the level of success that he did yesterday. This particular party proved to be the sensory integration Olympics of sorts for Evan, he used just about every tool in his proverbial toolbox and was able to meet with success. This is after decades of therapy and work on Evan’s behalf. The end result was that he was incredibly proud of himself. I simply marveled at the level of calm he resonated, which was contagious. The calmer he was, the calmer I became. It was a milestone for Evan, but for me as well. Learning to take a leap of faith was a keen reminder that we need to keep challenging Evan and our selves from becoming too complacent and not living a full life, one that constantly involves challenge, change and growth. Here’s to taking chances!
Happy Holidays to everyone- wishing you peace and love.
~Kristen xoxo
