When I was nine, I woke up one morning to find my mom unexpectedly packing. She told me, my brother and my sister to choose a couple of special things to bring in the car with us and that we would be leaving in a couple of hours. A voluntary evacuation order the day before had turned into a mandatory evacuation that day for Hurricane Andrew. At that time, evacuation plans were not as extensive as they are now (although they still aren't that great) and they did not automatically turn the freeways in one direction. It took us all day to go 30 minutes down I-10. The best we could do was stay at my grandparents house and hope we would not bear the brunt of the storm. My parents put us all to sleep in my grandparents living room and even though they thought I was sleeping, I watched my parents and grandparents follow that huge, swirling red mass moving on the television screen eventually witnessing their collective sigh of relief as the hurricane turned at the last second and headed toward Florida.
Thirteen years later, Hurricane Rita came barreling through and once again my hometown was ordered to evacuate. There was no turning this time and my hometown, where my parents still lived in my childhood home, took a direct hit. My parents traveled north to a relative's lake house because Houston was gridlocked and they hoped it would be the safest place they could go. Rita went straight north and over the lake house. My dad would later tell me it was one of the eeriest experiences of his life. He said the tall east Texas trees were practically bent at 180 degrees from the force of the wind. All of a sudden everything froze as the eye passed over then the trees bent 180 degrees the other direction. They were without power and water for days before they could get out and travel to me in College Station. We lost all of the trees in our front yard, the brick chimney fell through the roof and my dad had to pull unimaginable things out of our pool. Three years later, my hometown took another direct hit from Hurricane Ike. Still weary from the last hurricane, my parents stood in my Austin living room and watched the hurricane make landfall right over their home. When my parents were finally able to get back home, it was like entering a war zone. Our home was shockingly unharmed but my beloved Crystal Beach, a place I visited every summer during my childhood, was gone and many people suffered extreme damage. My parents were displaced for months. It took years to recover and a lot of help, but my hometown, my beloved beach and so many people I love rebuilt their lives. The people of Houston, Rockport, Corpus Christi and once again my childhood home, which is being pummeled by Harvey right now and will see the worst of it tomorrow, will also rebuild but will need help doing so. Many of us who do not live along the coast will never experience the aftermath of a hurricane. The unpredictability of any natural phenomenon can lead to unimaginable loss. No one is ever really prepared for anything like it. Please consider finding a way to help those affected by Hurricane Harvey, many of whom never prepared or expected to be in this situation. Matt and I have donated to the Hurricane Harvey Relief fund through The Autism Society of Texas and the Austin Disaster Relief Network. The Autism Society's fund was especially important to us because we cannot imagine the affect of displacement, disruption to routine, and chaos would have on Will. To have an organization looking out for us and providing specific needs would be so welcome. There are a host of other organizations that are providing direct and specific help and support for those affected by Hurricane Harvey. There are so many things going on in the world that require our attention, and we have to make decisions on which cause will receive that attention and funds. I write about and promote this one because I feel we have a responsibility to the communities around us and because it's personal. In the days and months to come, we should all be looking for new opportunities to help no matter how small. We are in this together.
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We finally made it to the night before Kindergarten, the milestone we have been working toward for the last four years.
This moment is bittersweet. I think I'm more ready than most Kinder parents who are sending their first born off because I've been placing Will in the hands of strangers since he was two. He was just a baby when I handed him to his first therapist and had to turn and walk out. It feels a little strange to see other parents upset, not because it's wrong but because I already experienced that mixture of hope and emptiness a long time ago. I've been so grateful though for the many experiences we've had recently that have helped Will be the best Will he can be going into Kinder. It's a strange time for Matt and me as parents because we don't find ourselves wondering if we've prepared him enough for this day, cycling through memories of his toddler years and trying to assess every moment to make sure we made the most of it. Will was robbed of toddlerhood by the worst parts of autism, the kind that didn't allow him to live fully. We were robbed of that time with him because we didn't know how to connect with or help him. I think Will would agree that we never want to go back. I do find myself wondering if I got him into therapy early enough, did I put him with the right therapists, should I have considered alternative treatments? Would he be able to communicate with his peers more if I had done things differently? Did I do everything right? The "what ifs" are mind-numbing. Hindsight is everything but changes nothing. All I can do is pray that those experiences, good and bad, weave together to form something beautiful. I think Will wants to be excited about the first day but seems really nervous. School was really hard for him last year and even though he did so well, I think it's overwhelming for him to pull together the emotional energy to socialize and focus. There are so many life rules to remember in just a single interaction for him. There are a lot of unknowns ahead and still many barriers to break down in a public school system that has a pervasive problem of dismissing special needs students. Will has an excellent teacher who I think will prove to be a phenomenal advocate for him, and from what I can tell, a school that has so much potential to be progressive in how special needs students are educated. What I do know is my big boy is sweet, funny, talented and a natural leader. He's as quirky as they come, and I love most bits of those quirks. Entering school is a huge next step for Will. While complicated and often frustrating, he is known for exceeding expectations and surprising people in the best possible way. There will be ups and downs because Will needs to keep things interesting, but he has yet another team of people around him this year that believe in him, who I know won't emphasize what he can't do but rather all the possibilities. And trust me, there are plenty. Happy first week of school everyone! |
Charming, quirky and incredibly loving. Will loves his friends, swimming, the iPad, the Avett Brothers, observing the world upside down, climbing, jumping and being chased.
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October 2017
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