I can barely cook dinner without being interrupted by my once water flicking boy who could not sit still for more than a minute or two. Ronan brings me the box of blocks and signs for me to open it. He won’t leave though once I’ve opened the case. Ronan holds my hand and tugs it down to make me sit and play with him. Dinner is done much later and with less fixins on those nights.  Over the weekend I fell asleep on the couch. Steve was playing in one of the bedrooms with everyone and I could still hear laughter while I took a quick cat nap.  I woke quickly and shouted, “Where’s Ronan?”  I lumbered through the house checking to see that all the doors leading outside were locked. I couldn’t find Ronan anywhere! I still heard the kids and Steve playing but knew Ronan wasn’t with them. The last place in the house I expected to find Ronan was in the playroom but there he was playing.  He looked up at me as if he was thinking, “Silly Mommy” and then he smiled.  Ronan was actually playing with the Lego® blocks.  I fell to the floor and asked Ronan for a hug. He came over and planted himself in my lap and just held me. 

Most everyone we see in town already knows our children, but we rarely have the chance to all go out together. My oldest is a spitting image of her father—Scottish fair skin, bright green eyes, reddish hair and such a girlie girl (well, Steve’s not a girlie girl, but he fits the other descriptions!).  Ronan, on the other hand, looks exactly like me—darker skin tones, brownest brown eyes, dark hair and full of energy. The salesclerk we saw on our outing made some gushing comments about all the children, looked at Ronan and said, “Wow, I don’t think I’ve met him before. He sure does favor you, Mom.” I was in Heaven. There are days I can’t relate to my son since his brain fog takes over his whole being. Bad days are multiplied tenfold and tantrums bring out the worst in Ronan and the saddest part of my soul.  I want so badly to be a part of Ronan’s world while yanking him into ours. I forget to tread lightly and give Ronan more time to warm up to situations. I so want my son to be normal again.  That instance, when the salesclerk brought me back to earth, I felt a sense of relief that yes, my son has issues, but an emphatic yes that this child, no matter what has happened to him, he’s mine, all mine. 

Everything I do for Ronan is meant to be shared with the world. I want everyone to know that he is working so hard to recover.  Now that Ronan is shadowing me and wanting to interact again, I remind myself that for a shadow to appear, there must be light.  These days we’re so grateful that Ronan is coming out of the dark and into the light of recovery. 

Cathy Jameson has 4 children. She is excited for her family as they are witnessing  the emerging skills her vaccine-injured son Ronan has been displaying. Recovery seems to be so much closer with everyone’s cheering and hard work.