I've never been one to experience a let down after the holidays are over. This goes back to my days of working in the photo industry, when the weeks before Christmas were consumed with hours of toiling over a hot photo processor. The one thing January always meant to me was a break!! Nowadays, the holidays can be somewhat difficult for our family due to the drastic changes in routine, the inevitable fatigue, high expectations, and unfamiliar circumstances we sometimes find ourselves in. January, once again, seems a month of refuge and return to "normalcy". Today as I'm taking the decorations off my Christmas tree, I'm reflecting a little bit on holidays past, and the things that have changed over the years.
For Christmas this year, I surprised Tom with getting our old 8mm tapes transferred to DVDs. Most of them were taken during Sam's early years- everything from his birth to preschool graduation. I wondered how I would react emotionally to viewing those moments before we knew anything was "wrong". Back when I felt like any other new parent- I thought my son was the most brilliant creature who ever lived. There was video of him counting before he was two and reciting ABC's at age 3. I know I used to think he was gifted when he sounded out his first word at age 3 and could read during his second year of preschool. Then came the diagnosticians, the therapists, the therapists and the administrators. Somewhere along the way I allowed them to collectively squash the hopes and dreams I had for my kid. Somewhere along the way I started to buy into the whole "disability" drama, and see him through the clouded haze that they saw him through. The problems became the focus. I no longer saw that beautiful, brilliant, curly haired boy who made this reluctant mother so glad she took the plunge and reproduced.
I'm completely ashamed to admit that. I guess maybe I didn't realize how far I had sunk until I saw those DVDs from so long ago. It makes me so sad to think about the years that have been lost to this fog of someone else's creation, but I have to accept part of the blame for allowing it to happen. Perhaps I didn't have the strength to fight it, maybe I just figured I had so little experience that I needed to be led by the hand to a place I didn't necessarily want to go. It makes me sadder than I've been in a while to reflect on all this.
But it also makes me feel something else. Pissed off! Maybe I allowed others to alter my vision for awhile, but I don't want that to be the case anymore. Sam is still Sam. He is still brilliant. I have yet to see any school work that he has struggled with. Sure, he has some things to overcome. All of us do. Sam's difficulties present problems for people because they are not the usual difficulties children have. He has often baffled even Tom and I, so I can understand the frustration people dealing with him have, and why they "check out" and hang their hat on the limitations his disability presents. It's easier to write a person off and define them by the diagnosis they have. I am feeling so sorry that I allowed myself to fall into that trap. Before October 2005, Sam was defined by his personality, his love of life, his intellect, his sense of humor, and yes, his quirkiness. My goal for 2011 is to get back that optimism, the belief that anything is possible, and to never give up trying to get the best for Sam.
