Lessons my Nephew Has Taught Me

I want to write something profound, something inspiring – and if I am truthful something that will garner lots of comments. But every time I sit down to type a post, I feel as though the writing is forced. The sentences are stiff, the voice not my own. So I stop, close my eyes, breathe deeply, and try to find what I want to convey.

 

My mind goes to my oldest nephew T*.  And as I think of him, my heart grows heavier, the tears come, but rather than stop them as I have done countless times before – I let them flow. Hot, salty pathways cut across my face….and I feel a release.

 

 

I learned that I was going to be an Aunt for the first time when I was 22 years old. My sister, who was a high school senior, called to tell me the joyous news. I felt anything but joyous. I remember sinking to the kitchen floor and sobbing. Sobbing that my sister's youth was lost, sobbing for the heartbreak that my parents were feeling, and sobbing out of fear for the yet unborn child.

 

In the midst of my sobs, I heard God whisper "This baby is my creation. The unborn life is one I have made…. Trust Me."

 

God was right!  Perhaps the circumstances of his conception were less than ideal, but my nephew was a creation of God. And he was part of me, so I could do nothing but eagerly await his arrival.

 

On May 6, 2005 – I held his tiny body in my arms – rocking him and singing. And my heart swelled with an overflowing love. "I love you little man. I'm your Aunt…and I am going to be the best Aunt ever."

 

 

When he was 2 and a half, I realized something was not quite right. While the other children played with toys, he hung back watching, as though he was unsure of what to do. My sister and mother brushed off my concerns

 

"He's just shy."

 

"He does not like lots of people."

 

But their explanations did nothing to quiet the still small voice in my head that said "Something is not right."  I started taking a closer look at my nephew – his speech was limited, he often repeated himself, poor eye contact, the list of worries grew and grew.

 

After careful research, I called a family meeting and asked my sister to ask his pediatrician to have him tested for autism.  World War III ensued..

 

So to keep the peace, I kept quiet.

 

 

 

Kindergarten comes, and T starts the year off with a bang. However, a few weeks into the year, the letters from teachers start coming home. T has trouble focusing, he is falling behind his peers. The teachers are concerned, I'm concerned.

 

The school system pushes for testing. And this time my sister agrees. After a battery of tests, visits with a psychologist, two psychiatrists, speech therapists and a new pediatrician – the diagnosis comes down.

 

T has attention deficit disorder and pervasive development disorder – not otherwise specified. A.D.D. is not a new diagnosis for our family. My father and sister both suffer from the disorder; we are all familiar with the medications that will need to be taken, the learning adaptations that may need to be made.  It is the P.D.D. – N.O.S. that shakes me to the core.

 

Just like 3 years prior, I begin researching.  It is hard to describe what PDD-NOS is, other than its being an autism spectrum disorder (ASD). Some people diagnosed with PDD-NOS are close to having Asperger syndrome, but do not quite fit. Others have near full fledged autism, but without some of its symptoms.

 

T has some autistic behaviors, but in most ways he is atypical. However, he will need speech, physical and occupational therapy to help him catch up with his peers. Educationally speaking, he will need to have lots of one on one time with teachers, and will work in small group settings. It is highly likely that he will need to repeat kindergarten.

 

 

And so I sit, crying – tears of relief that we can finally get T the help he needs, tears of anger that my sister (and other family members) did not listen to me 3 years ago, tears of regret that I did not fight harder for T, and tears of fear for the obstacles T may face in coming years.

 

Once again God whispers "T is my creation. His diagnosis was no surprise to me. Trust, Kimberly, just trust."

 

Thru tear clouded eyes, I see the bigger picture…. that the amazing God I serve has a path laid out for T. Perhaps it is not the path that we would have chosen for him, but God's path is always better. So I am letting go of the anger, the pain, the regret and I am going to watch God do remarkable things thru T.

After all, God has already used T twice in his short life, to teach me a few lessons on trust.

Joycie’s First Egg Hunt

 

 

WW: How Many Shapes Fit in the Sub-Woofer?

Through the Fire, Part Two

 

 

I woke up last Friday morning, with a tired body, a grateful heart, and a wary mind. While it appeared that the fire was no longer an immient threat, it was still burning. M and I decided that we would allow Joycie to stay in town with my parents (therby reducing her exposure to the smoke), leave our vehicles packed  (in case we needed to evacuate again), and go to work.

 

The first few hours of my work day were spent alternating work with telling my various co-workers about the previous night's events. Each and every one of them showed a huge amount of concern, and they each offered to keep praying for the safety of our home.  Around 11:30, my father-in-law, who happens to work with me, received a call that the fires had started back up – and it seemed as though our homes were once again in danger.

 

I called M to give him the news, and then rode home with my FIL. The rest of the afternoon was spent with our eyes on the tree line – watching the shifting smoke, preparing to leave at a moment's notice. Finally, late Friday night, it was determined that the fires were contained and not likely to threaten us again. 

 

 Saturday was spent unloading our vehicles, clearing the ash from our yard, and just enjoying being with family. On Sunday, our church elected to suspend our evening services, and instead gathered together to feed the hundreds of firefighters, forestry workers, policemen, and volunteers – who had been working so hard to spare our community from destruction.

 

As each one of them came by the dessert table where I was serving, they offered me a sincere thank you. And each time I replied " I should be thanking you. Your service has saved our homes."

 

The fire burned within a quarter mile of my home. A quarter mile – that's a distance that I can normally run in just a few minutes. It would have taken the fire mere seconds to cover that distance – if not for two things:

 

1. God's Grace
2. The hardwork of the firefighters.

 

I will never forget either one of those things.

Through the Fire....

 

 

What items would you take from your home if you were just given a few minutes to evacuate? Clothes, photos, important papers, special mementos…..   It is something that we should all think about but very few of us do.

 

I know – I was one of them – until last night. Yesterday, a brush fire broke out in my town. And by 8:00 p.m. last night, sheriff's deputies were going thru our community asking residents to evacuate. The smoke was thick in the air, the glow of the flames was visible from my front yard, and it seemed as though the threat was imminent.

 

Frantically, I grabbed items from the house – pictures, medicine, Joycie's clothes, a few items of clothing for M and I, my camera, important papers.  I thought I had grabbed everything that I would need. But when I arrived at my parent's home I realized that I had forgotten – our computers, the video camera, the SD card with all the photos and videos of Joycie's first year.  Thankfully, M was able to put those items in his truck – as he had stayed behind to plow fire breaks, water yards and houses, and assist the fire department until the last possible second. (He is a volunteer fire fighter, so he has training)

 

While M, his parents and brother worked to safe our homes and farms, I sat by the phone – calling everyone I knew to solicit prayers – and to wait for updates from M.  The amazing God that I served heard all the prayers that were lifted – because by 10:00 p.m. the winds had shifted pushing the fire away from our homes. And by midnight, I was safely tucked away in my bed.  At last report, no homes or other structures had been lost.

 

However, we are still wary, as the fire is still burning and the slightest shift in the winds could push the flames towards us. Therefore, both of our vehicles remained loaded with the things that we chose last night.

 

This morning, as a I watch the sunrise through a smoky, hazy sky….I am grateful. Grateful that no homes were lost, that lives were spared, and that my family is safe and sound.  And I feel prompted to encourage if you to create an evacuation plan for your family, make a checklist of items that you want to take with you if the worst was to happen, and most importantly hug each family member a little tighter today. If last night taught me anything, it is how fragile life is, and how quickly it could all be lost.

Wordless Wednesday: Bed Head

Happy Anniversary Mikey!

 

A little over 3 years ago, I moved back to this tiny town that we call home. My intention was to stay for a few weeks – maybe a few months – just until I got my feet underneath me again.  After all, I was coming home to nurse a broken heart…. I thought I was running away from the pain of the break up, but I was really running straight into my future.

That future was you, Mikey. Little did I know, that the playful banter we exchanged at your parent’s Super Bowl party was just the beginning of something life changing.

I still remember the butterflies I felt while I waited for you to pick me up for the church Valentine’s Day supper.  I thought it was illogical to be nervous. After all the only reason you were taking me was because our lovely sister-in-law Lane was making you. If the butterflies were bad before you picked me up, they were ever worse once you arrived. But you calmed me – with you jokes, you questions about my life, and the wonderful conversation we shared. I did not realize it at that moment, but looking back I can clearly see, that is the moment I fell in love with you.

One year later, I walked down the aisle clinging to my Daddy’s arms, once again fighting butterflies. Then I saw you in your tux grinning that sly grin you always have. And once again, you calmed me.  As we stood before our family and friends and pledged our lives to one another, I thought that I could never love you more.

I was wrong.

Three months later, we were taking a pregnancy test on hot July afternoon. We were so certain that it would be negative. The timing for pregnancy was wrong, we were still newlyweds not ready to be parents. But there was no denying what the test said. And when I lost it – alternating between hysterical laughter and gut wrenching tears – you held me, you calmed me.  And when the shock wore off, and we prepared for parenthood, I fell deeper in love with you. And again, I though that I could never love you more.

Wrong again.

9 months later, we welcomed Miss Joycelen into our lives. The image of you holding our daughter for the first time is forever etched in my mind. Even in my drugged haze, I could see that you were already deeply in love with her – and once again my heart swelled with love for you.

Over the last year, I have watched you as a father. And each of the moments that I have witnessed have strengthened my love for you.  There is an oldies song that has the words “I love you more today than yesterday, but not as much as tomorrow.”  That’s us babe.

You are my best friend, my confidant, an wonderful father. You are the person who calms my fears, reassures me when I doubt myself, encourages me to pursue my dreams. You are the man that I love with everything that I am.

I am so blessed to have shared two years of marriage with you and I look forward to a lifetime together.

I love you!