Join us in wishing Ronan Jameson a very happy 22nd birthday!

By Cathy Jameson

I was hoping to go into work early on Thursday last week.  I wanted to finish a project and take care of something that had popped up the day before. With how busy my day gets, going in early would be a gift.  Having my older kids home from college last week was an even bigger gift.  I've been able to stay at work longer and go in earlier with them home on their Christmas break.  Our caregiver gave up a few of her hours so that they can clock in more, which has been a very generous gift to them.  It's been so nice to have the house full of helpful siblings again!

I'm sure the kids thought they'd get to sleep in a bit now that their classes were over, but Ronan decided to get up at 3am three days in a row.  I got tons done before I left the house for work, but those early wake ups made for extra-long days for him and for me.  By Thursday, Ronan settled down and woke up at his more normal 9:30am time. I wouldn't know until Friday that as his energy level decreased, his temperature would rise.  I had a tiny feeling that something was off for him on Thursday when I left for the day but wouldn't be able to confirm my suspicions until Friday when he spiked a fever.  The kids know how to handle lots of things, including when Ronan is sick. But I don't like to leave that in their hands.  They always assure me that they - and Ronan will be okay.  With their confidence in mind, I tiptoed out Thursday morning.  

I didn't get too far.  My front windshield needed to be cleared before I could drive away.  

The weather was like a yo-yo all of last week, and dipped back to winter temps.  While I heated up the car, I worked on defrosting the windshield.  The longer I waited for it to clear I realized that it wasn't really that frosty.  What needed to be cleared was on the inside.  It finally started to clear.  Readjusting the dials once more, I headed down the street.  It's usually all clear by the time I get to the first stop sign.  But that day, one large section on the passenger side stayed foggy longer no matter what I did.  I could see well through my side but couldn't see well from the other side of the windshield.  That had me slowing down and ultimately stopping.  Come on, I thought.  I finally have a few extra minutes to take care of something important, and I'm unexpectedly stopped in my tracks. 

I pulled over and waited on the side of the road.  No one was behind me, so I didn't feel the need to rush. 

One minute.

Two minutes.

Still, no one behind me. 

Almost cleared.

And, go. 

I rolled back on the road and approached the next stop sign.  Even though the windshield was completely cleared, I sat at the intersection longer than I needed to.  It's not because the road I was turning onto is on a curve, and I needed to make sure that no one was coming around the bend.  No one was coming.  I stopped longer because leaving the house that morning had me thinking back to when things weren't so complicated.  I wasn't expecting to have a rush of memories, but the last few minutes had me thinking back to the early 2000s.  I was prepared for Ronan when he arrived 22 years and a day ago.  I was ready to be his mommy and to provide everything his tiny body needed.  I was willing to go through the aches and pains of childbirth and also parenting.  I was overjoyed to watch our little family grow!  

Those were such blissful moments, and absolutely nothing back then prepared me for what lay ahead of us.  

That foggy window that morning kept me from seeing what was clearly in front of me.  Not being able to see kept me from going where I needed to go.  It sounds silly, but I compared it to how our expectations for Ronan’s life abruptly changed.  I didn't expect to need constant caregivers or to rearrange everyone’s schedules to accommodate him, like I do almost weekly.  I didn't expect to have to learn all that I have learned and had to handle, like being on hold for over five hours with the disability office last week to ask them one simple question.  I didn't expect to lose trust in people I used to revere, like some of Ronan's early medical providers who contributed to Ronan's ill health that led us down a darkened path.  

I know that expectations can change during many seasons of life, but all these years later, I'm sometimes still not prepared for what else is to come.  Take this year’s events.  Ronan's bounced back from a few terrible months of medical problems.  Even though I can see that things are much better for him now, the next round of unknowns keeps me feeling a tad uneasy.  

Once I got to work, I tackled the project and took care of other important tasks.  The kids kept Ronan happy and safe like they said they would when I was out of the house longer than usual.  Ronan didn't seem phased when I came home later.  While he may not be able to say, 'Mom!! I just love that the kids are home,' he shows us with his amazing smile that he was chuffed to bits.  

The smile, the squeals, the peals of laughter, and the shenanigans (happily, there are a few of those) helped push my doubts and my frustrations away.  

Like the fever that spiked and went away, those frustrations I feel are temporary.  I make sure of that.  Because to hold onto those and the suffering that comes with them will fog up my thoughts.  I don't entirely know what Ronan's future holds - for him or for us, but I do know that he's clearly made an impact.  On me, on my little family, and in our community here and beyond.  He's worth the little bit of worry and all of the extra help he needs.  I'm grateful for him nowand for every blissful moment we will hopefully witness in his future.  

Happy birthday, Ronan.  You are one of the greatest blessings in my life!

Cathy Jameson is a Contributing Editor for Age of Autism.