Drafts of wind from the sheer number of closing doors collided in our home, and all at once. Traditional school was behind us. We at least knew we were better off without the wrong help. The wrong help made it all so much worse. This fact was proven, double checked, cross checked, and validated more than just once. ABA services were off somewhere in the distance. The wrong help had even scarred the right help. Hands up in the air.
Jake’s psychiatry office changed their virtual policy to in person only. The office was far away and not a priority to stack. I planned to call his pediatrician Monday. Another closed door in a room of many.
We were waiting for Jake to be officially and finally disenrolled from school. This was the result of pushing the weight of a steel door. Pushing just to keep it cracked open. A door that was never built to accommodate Jake’s needs. We pushed the steel door way too long. Wasted energy. We held the door open to postpone the inevitable. We should have known better. Jake needed better. A wave goodbye was our best bet.
The arm wrestle of services was never in our favor. They win. The systems win. Curtain closed. We just could not participate in the games and refused to move an inch backwards. The Cross tracked winds roared in the room.
There was an impressive strength in our stance from years of dedicated practice. We knew better now. We were waiting for Jake to lose his autism waiver. Waiting with a gripping uncertainty.
We were still here. We were here all along. Just us. We were back to where we started.
At the same time, I felt like we dodged a bullet. If we had pushed Jake into an environment not meant to serve him? If we had given into the fury of school priority over mental health. Over well-being. Over everything that mattered. Over Jake’s best interest. What if we just dodged a bullet?
A reflection…
We are far from the last parents, advocates, or caretakers to face these impossible choices. Far from the last parents who are caught in the back wind drafts of closing doors. Far from the last parents who were shamed for asking for help. Far from the last parents who had to fend for the best interest of their child and themselves. Far from the last to fall then stand up tall.
There is a comfort in knowing we are finally starting to get this right. We at least know what we do not want. We at least know the wrong help would keep us up at night.
Meanwhile, Jake is growing. There are more opportunities. More laughing days. More of doing what he loves. More chances to challenge him with reachable goals. More chances to celebrate. More letting the good things come his way. More letting it all go.
More doors that swing open. Doors not made of steel. Doors made to sway in the wind.
