Special Needs Kids

Holding on……

It’s been two years since her Daddy, (my brother) passed and recently we went to one of their favorite places. We went to recapture, remember, and most importantly, make some new memories. For in all the loss that this life can throw at us, love always remains. And we are thankful, so thankful for these times.

For the best thing we can do sometimes, is hold on to what remains. And it’s a lot.

We played, we splashed in the water, and we rode the Carousel several times, and the log ride. I am not a big fan of roller coasters but the log ride I can do. Just to hear her laugh and scream at me getting wet, it was worth everything. And when she grabbed my hand as we walked all day on the boardwalk, I felt like I had been given a precious gift. Parents of Special Needs kids (and adults) have a challenging task and I will never minimize it.

but I also believe it comes with many blessings that bleed through the exhaustion……

I guess you have to balance what you lose and what you gain along the way.

You may have a much different timetable that everyone else has. Your victories are bigger even when the tasks may be minimal according to what the world thinks. But you celebrate them just the same and maybe more. I remember when she was small, things like going into a store, seeing a man with a beard, or a floaty in a swimming pool meant a hasty retreat out of there.

With all the challenges you face, you remember. And sometimes the remembering makes you cry.

As she grabbed my hand in the crowd this past weekend, I flashed back to this picture when she was about 5 with her dad. Here’s the thing. What would you give to have your grown 22-year-old grab your hand once again? Maybe they are off to college, living far away, or maybe they are in the next room, sullen and an island all to themselves.

What would you give?

But I got to do this. I got to hold her hand and it was a gift she gave me that remains with me still. What a tremendous blessing that we get to see the world through their eyes, and it is still a magical and wondrous place. So, Special Needs parent, God has given you an extra responsibility and you will need your village behind you.

There are challenges. There are the times like this weekend when her world came to an end and her brain was stuck in an endless loop of not wanting to go home, not want it to end. It can be so agonizing when you can’t help. (Hey, I get that way too at the ocean). And it didn’t help that someone had an accident in the pool, and it was closed. That might have helped soften the edges. But to her credit she and Mom got through it.

In the end, I believe Heaven has a place saved for these kids, because in some ways they have never left. They show us the way of simple joy, and purity and how it was long ago in the beginning, without fear, without darkness, when everything was brand new and each new day was a gift to be discovered.

I love you Lauryn, your Auntie Lori.

181B2F06-70ED-4747-9C96-CE4E9087C877.jpeg

Here I go again…..I had a paragraph written when the iPad just shut down. It saved two words. We awoke once again to smoke-filled skies due to fires both North and South of us.  I found myself staring at the sun as it rose bright orange. How often do you get to stare at the sun? I was wishing for my blue skies while others were enduring the horror of watching what they’ve worked for go up in smoke. They were having to wake up this morning without homes, pets, even loved ones. Just goes to show that on any given day, someone else has it worse than you, though that is small comfort when it’s you going through it. We did find out that two good friends made it out safely but it doesn’t look good for their home.

Yesterday at school the teacher’s brother-in-law come in and give a little talk to the kids for Veteran’s Day. He brought in all kinds of equipment they could try on. It was so very cute and the teacher took pictures of all the kids trying on helmets. Of course they have no idea of the horrors of war, thankfully. Abraham ran by excitedly  saying, “I am ready to go! I was born ready!” Yesterday was his Birthday and we found out he want to be a Veterinarian when he grows up. Layla turned towards me with the huge helmet wobbling on her head and both teeth missing in front, “Look Miss Lori!” It gave me the warm fuzzy feeling that happens often with 5, 6 and soon to be 7 year olds.

I kept Jacob occupied with a video to keep him quiet. He and I had our moments this week as every week. I get lots of sympathetic looks from all the teachers, principal and staff as I try to get him to get off the floor and walk to class or as I am wrangling him up or down the stairs. He is six and Down’s syndrome. He is cute and endearing and I have grown attached to him despite how frustrated I feel much of the time. On the plus side, I got an outstanding review from the Principal this week. It was much-needed validation that they are happy with what I am doing. (thank you God) the prayers have helped!

Whatever you are walking through this season my friends know that you are not alone. Those words ring hollow except when you know the God that went through the worst this world can offer for us all. The end of the story is victory. Every one of us can have a happy ending because Jesus didn’t stay in the grave. And that is what we ultimately have to focus on when our world is caving in around us.

“But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” 1 Corinthians 15:57

What a Special Needs Classroom Taught Me

 

 

 

The job of Paraeducator had in its description many things, mostly categorizing what I would do to help out the teacher in the classroom and on the playground, and in turn the kids. What it left out was something it couldn’t possibly know or prepare me for. That was how those kids opened up a whole new place in my heart for love.

What it also left out was how I learned even more about grace working and playing with them for these past 4 months. That is, grace with a capital “G” as in God’s grace.

At first I had a hard time learning all their names. I got so and so mixed up with so and so. But then I got to know them as individuals. That was when my heart opened up. I found that I even came to love the ones who got on my last nerve and had to put in time out. Even when they looked right at me and did exactly what I told them not to!

How can you prepare your heart for how you’ll feel when they call your name and run to you with arms outstretched? How can you know what a good feeling it is when they give you a spontaneous kiss and hug even after you’ve had to scold them? That’s when I heard the Spirit whisper, “That is how God loves you, my child.”

I can honestly say that I loved each and every one of them in different ways. (Around 25 in all) I found myself calling them “my kids” more and more as the weeks wore on. As another school shooting happened and I found myself in a classroom, I couldn’t imagine someone threatening these little ones, so vulnerable between the ages of three and five.

They even found their way into my dreams.

Even now, almost a week later the songs that were part of the daily repertoire are still running through my head. “Chickarocka chickaboom” “Ladybug, ladybug” “Great White Shark” “The Jellybean Counting song” all still there.

I wasn’t prepared for how hard it would be to say goodbye the last day of school. They left so soon, each in different directions. And I wasn’t ready. Their faces, their voices, everything that is uniquely them, all gathered together in a string of memories I won’t let go of. I will miss reading to you Jonathan. I will miss you catching me when I miss a page. I will even miss your tantrums.

I will miss you Christopher and the impossibly cute way you talked, and the funny noises you made running on the playground. I know you all by name now. We are no longer strangers and I will wonder about you all my life.

You were my first class. And you taught me so much more than I could ever teach you. I will hold you in my heart and my prayers, and wonder about what you will grow up to be. Thank you for teaching me about how God loves us all. Each in our own uniqueness; each with our own bundle of idiosyncrasies and problems, insecurities and hangups.

Thank you God for shining down on me through those little ones. To show me how you love me. Even when I look right at you and defiantly insist on doing things my own way. I know now……I know more about how deep Your love really is and how much you thrill over my victories. And I know how you feel when I run to you with arms open wide and how you long for that.