Sad

Well, things aren't going so well again. My dear Caleb has a terrible abrasion on his forehead from banging it on the concrete last Saturday. Apparently, he did something close to the same thing the next day, furthering the damage. And now they say he's picking the area like crazy, so healing comes hard.

My thoughts right now take me back to the days we first discovered Caleb's plight and the years following. One day I will go there. As hard as I try right now, it's locked down tight.

Pray for a mother, a father, sisters, a brother—-and for my baby.

Autism affects all.

Is It Possible?

Is it possible to be the most devastated and the most deliriously happy person on the planet at the same time? Many people regularly alternate super highs and dark, dark, lows. These people are called bi-polar. But I'm talking about experiencing these very real emotions simultaneously.

This phenomenon has occurred in my brain before, and happens just about every time I see Caleb actually, so today won't be the first or last time. But today I feel a need to express this while it's fresh and with me still. I think it may be accurate to equate what happens to the way one feels when utterly and completely lovestruck.

What amazing fortune. What a tragic nightmare.

Caleb's smile and a knowing look in his eyes does this to me.

Today we played Monopoly. We have our own version. There are no property deals or trips in and out of jail. What you roll is what you get, in dollars, counted one by one in your hand. With each turn you get a house or a hotel—-whichever you choose. You may place the house or hotel wherever you want on the board.

There are two players only—-the horse and the iron.

Caleb wins.

He smiles.

It's a dream come true.

Plea

Hi Caleb and God,

Caleb, why are you so sleepy? And why did you pinch your dad yesterday?

Please, God --- Here is my prayer --- let Caleb somehow tell us the answers to these questions. And also what it feels like to be him, what he wants and needs and loves and hates.

I know you want to communicate Caleb. I want to understand. Love, Mama

I know you want to help us God. I know you have a good plan for Caleb. Don't allow me to stand in the way. Open my eyes, my ears, my heart. Change me and help me. Amen.

A Hard Place

On Sunday, Caleb was sound asleep when I visited—for the entire visit. I did everything, shy of pouring ice water on his head, to wake him up. At one point, I think he saw me. Dan was there and he swears Caleb's eyes opened just a slit at the same time he smiled. I thought that was him smiling in a dream. After that though, he did rest his arm on my leg and I felt he knew I was with him. Why couldn't he wake up? I checked with the nurse. No med changes. No seizures. The caregivers said he had been outside a lot before we arrived and there was obviously some problem with the ac unit for his building. So maybe the heat wore him out. I can only hope he is not depressed. You know how people tend to sleep more when depressed. His dad sees him this weekend and I go again the next. This is the way it goes for now. We are taking it slow on the visits, so he can adjust to his new home and community. I am torn. But I pray, and rest knowing Caleb is safe in God's arms of love. Yet, am I a terrible parent? I ask God this now. Anguish and autism go hand in hand, at least in my experience. My torment has moved from what could I have done better to what can I do? Oh, God, I am in need of help. Thank you for being everywhere at once and being Caleb's one perfect parent. I release my pain to you. I release Caleb to you. I trust.

Happy Caleb Day!

I got to see my sweetheart, finally, after three weeks. Here he is at Brenham State School. Compare to the photo before the move (April 4th post). He is happy.

"Hello Mom"

Those words are priceless to me from Caleb. Our conversations are brief - only six more words - I say I love you and he says it back. It's the tone I listen for. I see his face. He smiled the other day. When his caregiver came back to the phone I said I knew he had smiled. She confirmed.

"Yes, right now he is laughing and slapping his leg. He seems happy."

Exactly what a temporarily banished mom needs to hear.

Caleb is safe.

Missing My Child - Hanging On

There are some wonderful people in Caleb's new world. Mary and Susan, the full-time, on-campus nurses actually working with me by giving Caleb the supplements I've tried for so long to get caregivers to give, and who Caleb seems to like already; Marilyn, the speech therapist doing her darndest to capture an assessment; then there's Shawn, Kim, Detrick, Debra, the doctors, the physical therapist I missed meeting but who is working to get Caleb on an adult trike; and there are many, many others. Wow. Caleb has a nutritionist, doctors of every specialty, psychologists onsite around the clock. He has a caregiver with him one on one through this adjustment period. Caleb has everything he needs at his fingertips except his parents and family.

His dad and I have been instructed to give Caleb time to understand that this is his home and his community. That never took at the two group homes which were near to us. Maybe our frequent visits and trips to our homes added to his troubles.

It is a bittersweet time and soon we will have a bittersweet reunion. I am gathering strength to hopefully not cry when I see him.

We love you Caleb. You are with us in our hearts right now. I am making you a picture book. We are cheering you on and we will see you soon! xxoo