It's All a Blur

Winter is particularly challenging for me personally. It's the lack of sunshine, the excess of snow, the cold weather that chills me to the core and the inability to make my son's days "fun" that make just hanging in there such a struggle. Fortunately for me, I have a long term plan that helps me through this "end of Winter" hurdle. It's called a Time Share. It's a Winter option that I have, if I can muster the courage to go.

For years I have hated my property because it has seen me at my worst and most vulnerable. It is a place where I meet autism head on and dare it to break me. Invariably, it beats the sh** out of me, but I dress my wounds and try again. Three years in a row GP broke my glasses while I was there. The nearest optometrist being a 45 minute drive, longer when you can't see where you are going. Oh wait, there was the year when he didn't BREAK my glasses he knocked them over and they fell into the baseboard! I had four men in the apt looking for my tiny wire rimmed glasses in a tan colored room. It took them a long time to find them but they did. My heroes! One year GP decided he liked the outdoor hot tub and went out at 6am to stand in the snow in his jammies watching it. You have no idea what it feels like to wake up in an apartment in the middle of the White Mountains (that pic is the view from my unit's porch) and discover your child is missing... and when it happens more than once??? The second time he was found standing by the pool, fortunately he had not jumped in, he was three or four at the time. It was so early, that's all I remember; it was so cold, and so early. By the third time he was spotted in the wee hours of the morning I was called to collect him (by then everyone knew of the little boy who was lost TWICE before), and a chain was put on my apt door to keep him in. I used a suitcase after the first time, a chair after the second. At the time we lived in a dead bolted house, and a card key entry was like an open invitation to wander. As I always say, my son is autistic, he isn't stupid! Needless to say, the chain was unnecessary, that day I simply packed up and went home. I was done. Remember GP was non verbal, non communicative. So you could ask him his name, where he Mommy was, and you would see nothing but a little boy who seemed like he was deaf... lost in thought.

Every year for one week, I would pull my son out of our home where he was safe and sound and take him to the Mountains. Every single year, something would happen. Something bad. In time it came to be an apartment full of bad memories, and I couldn't go there. I couldn't sell it though. I couldn't. I refused. I would not accept defeat. I just stopped going, but I paid it off and like a nest egg, just let it rest.

Last year we changed management companies and spent an extraordinary amount of money on renovations. After writing a check that rivaled my mortgage payment I decided it was time to go see what had been done. I dressed myself in courage and set off to face my fears.

I psyched myself up, and set off with GP. I knew I was "home" when I closed the door and the chain was still there. That chain is was like a scar, a battle scar. I caught myself standing there, staring at it and reliving that horrible stay so many years ago. But it didn't kill me and I was back. Stronger, wiser and ready for the challenge.

How much my dear boy had changed. How happy he was to be there. He was talking, choosing restaurants, making our schedule. Now he was planning sightseeing drives and checking show times at the local cinema. He was not waking up at 5am to wander in the night. He was sleeping in. I don't remember everything we did that week, it's all a blur... which is really a good thing. You know the saying, "No news is good news" ? That applies here. If nothing stands out, it just means it was all good. =)
They say that time heals all wounds but I am here to tell you that some wounds heal leaving scars so deep that you just have to stop pretending you don't see them. You have to stare at them and know that what has not killed you, has made you stronger. In my case, I faced my fear and this time, this week, I stared autism in the face and said Screw YOU!

I lived through it and if you are where I was, know that you too will live through this. It matters not what your challenge is. If you can make it through today, you have won. B.