Guilty
I had the day off on Monday but ended up going into work to drop something off and to pick something up. I was going to run some important errands afterward, so I didn’t stick around too long. These are the errands that can only be done during work hours. Never having a chance to get to those, I was grateful for the time off to finally get to them. As I drove into work, I realized I had forgotten to make a copy of the paperwork I needed to mail on my errand. So much has been going on at home that that simple step got overlooked. I learned the hard way years ago to make a copy of documents going to government agencies. It’s always their word against yours unless you can prove it with documentation.
So, while I was in the building, I made copies of that official document that I was finally about to mail.
Four copies.
Done in the open.
But made with guilt.
As I left and started down the road to the post office, the secretary texted me, “Cathy, can you call me when you get a minute?”
OH NO!! SHE KNOWS! AND MY BOSS KNOWS, TOO!
We have a group text, the three of us, and I thought surely I was doomed.
How would the secretary know that I made copies…unless she gets a copy of the copies sent to her?? Could she?? No way! I’d seen her text come through when I was at a red light, so I waited until I could park to call her.
When we could finally talk, I breathed a sigh of relief. She needed to know what next week’s staffing schedule looked like. Knowing that I’d taken something that wasn’t mine to take, though, I planned to speak to both the secretary and my boss when we were together again. It wouldn’t be until the end of my day on Wednesday that I had time to do that, but we had a good laugh afterward.
“So, funny story,” I started. “Remember when you texted me on Monday? Well, I’d just made some copies of a personal document, even though I should’ve done that at home. Your text came in within minutes of me leaving here, and I thought, OH NO, SHE KNOWS!! I’d already planned on saying something – and replacing the four pieces of paper I used. But I was thinking that I’d abused the system, and you instantly knew it, too. That good ol’ Catholic guilt had me sweating.”
The secretary laughed at the thought of the copier sending her copies of what gets copied. We all laughed harder, including my boss, when the secretary jokingly said, “You owe us four papers and some toner dust – bring it or else!”
Later in the week, I felt a different kind of guilt.
I observed a pediatric therapy group conducting screenings for children in an early childhood setting. What a joy to see mostly typical children working so hard and successfully on all manner of tasks! An Occupational Therapist and a Speech and Language Therapist worked with 20 children on developmental skills, tracking what they could do and noting what they couldn’t yet do. The young women working with the children reminded me of the young therapists my son would see many years ago.
So full of energy and knowledge, the therapists Ronan worked with were my lifeline. From the early stages to right after covid hit, Ronan had an amazing team of humans pushing him with love, compassion, and expertise. He learned to walk, he learned to communicate more effectively, he learned to write, he learned to navigate his environment better with their help. I learned a lot also. To have the professionals walking alongside us all those years made all those years a bit more successful. Ronan still maintains skills he acquired, but covid derailed a lot of the community we had. Not only that, but covid also destroyed the sense of routine he needed.
Watching the young professionals during the screenings reminded me of that strong community and routine we had and thrived on. Since we stopped therapies, Ronan has been able to learn some new skills, but it’s on us to teach them, reinforce them, and encourage them. We could’ve restarted some of the therapies, but Ronan disliked the process. He fought us, he fought the therapists, he even fought just the thought of going.
I’m not a therapist, none of us in his immediate family are. But we can still work on skills with him. At the end of some days though, it’s tiring trying to get him to do what we know he can do but won’t. And now that he’s older, he doesn’t want me to be that person in his life. He wants me to be his Mom – not a teacher, not an assistant, not a therapist, not a medical provider. Just his Mom.
Ronan’s struggling with some medical issues that can be quite frustrating and also quite scary. In those moments, he is reaching for me, looking for me, signing for me to help him. Last week, when he couldn’t see me, he called out to me. I want the world for him all the time, but first and foremost I, too, now want to just be his Mom – not teacher, assistant, therapist, or medical provider.
We got step one of two completed yesterday in a series of medical tests that might help us know better what Ronan has been dealing with recently. It was not an easy test for him, but we prayed thankful prayers for the providers who fought for us to get that first test ordered. Next, we pray for useful answers. As we await the results and also for the second test to be scheduled, which has been delayed again, I try not to feel guilty about how much more I think I could do for Ronan.
For the last few years, our motto has been…to keep Ronan healthy, safe, and happy. Some days are much better than others, but on most days, he’s all three of those. So, I put the guilt away and just sit and enjoy his company. Therapy items are right next to us – things we used for both fine-motor skill development and gross-motor skill development. But Ronan wants nothing to do with those when we’re together. He would rather listen to his music or have me help him with the Wii. The internal struggle I sometimes deal with has me wanting to push him to do one task, to learn one new sign, to do one more physical exercise to build up weakened muscles. But I respect that time he wants with me. I can’t feel guilty about spending time together. It’s in his very quiet moments next to me that speak volumes. I cherish each and every one of those moments praying for more just like them.
Cathy Jameson is a Contributing Editor for Age of Autism.
###
Denial: How Refusing to Face the Facts about Our Autism Epidemic Hurts Children, Families, and Our Future
by Mark Blaxill and Dan Olmsted | Jul 25, 2017
A mother's love for her autistic son or daughter is the greatest gift that we can give them. Cathy, you are an inspiration for all of us on this very difficult autism life's journey.
Posted by: Gayle | October 06, 2024 at 06:42 PM
"Praying for his healing. Still."
Always. Visitor
Posted by: visitor IH | October 06, 2024 at 05:58 PM
Cathy,
You never owed them a dime.
It's just a tiny fraction of the true cost of vaccines.
Yes, always make time to just be Ronan's mom.
He is a young man and needs that independence .
Posted by: Emmaphiladelphia | October 06, 2024 at 02:40 PM
The love of a mother is beyond special! Blessings to all the mothers out there! Thanks for the post as always.
G. Martinez
Posted by: Gerardo Martinez | October 06, 2024 at 01:46 PM
To be just Ronan.
To be just Ronan's mom.
Praying for his healing. Still.
Posted by: Mama Bear | October 06, 2024 at 10:43 AM