Visions of Christmases past

Dec. 12, 2010

This evening, the family watched The Christmas Carol (okay, it was the muppet version, I confess.) It got me thinking of some of the changes in myself over the past several years. The biggest transformation is shifting my days working full-time to making Nathan's needs my primary profession.

If asked to describe myself I would probably say: competitive, loyal, stubborn, makes the most of any situation, but fears change. It’s not uncommon for me to hold on to things for no good reason, and to stick around even in bad situations. No place else was this more self-evident than my last several months at my old job. Each day was a challenge, not so much with the tasks at hand, but dealing with the people both above and below my position.

Alas, I was the major bread-winner and I left Annette to focus on what I considered the ‘motherly items’. She would coordinate schedules with the babysitter, arrange the doctor’s appointments, and talk with the therapists. I’d make an occasional appearance to therapies, and make whichever appointments fit into my schedule. When Annette found out about Nathan’s diagnosis, I was out in Salt Lake City (actually, that was working on a freelance project.) Annette had to hear the news and then relay the information on to me.

My perspective was to let the medical professionals do their job, and my job was to make the money to pay for it. Annette would try to relay the exercises done in PT or OT and things that we were to work on at home, but I can’t say I did much of what was asked of me. With the discouraging initial prognosis, and low expectations put in front of us and not knowing anything about how to help I thought it best I stay out of the way of those trying to help out.

It takes a pretty big sign to get me out of a rut, and in July of 2008, that sign was made clear. I was able to attend more therapy sessions, and Nathan seemed to respond. He was excited I was participating, and he seemed to try harder. It was evident that getting out of my old position and facing the roles I was intended to fulfill was the right choice. Annette still coordinates the vast majority of the appointments, but I'm there almost 100% of the time.

Since leaving my job, adjusting to a single income has been a rude awakening. I figured, I had learned the lesson God tried to teach me, and I’d soon find another job. Here I am 30 months later, and still learning the lessons I’ve been too stubborn to see. I’ve accepted that right now, Nathan needs to be my number one priority, and let God to take care of the rest.

I still send out several resumes a week, but I’ve also had my share of projects to work on. It helps plug the gaps where ever possible. I can’t call myself desperate for a job, as the offer has to be pretty rewarding to get me to leave my current position. Annette works very hard (and in many ways is faces the same challenges I did, when I should have been looking for a new job.) I know she sometimes wonders why she stays where she’s at, but every now-and-again we get that reminder.

Since becoming the one taking Nathan to-and-from school, appointments, therapies, activities and such my connection with him has become stronger than I ever knew was possible. We strengthen and support each other, knowing we won’t let the other down. He never judges me for not having a job, or asks for anything we can’t give. He doesn’t have a Christmas list, and doesn’t have a need for a letter to Santa.

I would never consider myself a Scrooge, and I’ve always enjoyed the giving side of Christmas. In the past there was always been a big-ticket gift or two under the tree with my name on it, and I’ve given the same to others. With Nathan’s success, especially over the last year, there really isn’t anything I want. Finding gifts with more sentimental value brings more joy than the ones with the big price tags. Looking back at where we’ve been and how far we’ve come, it gives huge windows of hope for the future. What better gift could anyone put a bow on?

I hope my heart is never so cold and hard that I can’t see the best road ahead. I know that my emotions catch up with me a lot more than they used to. I have a greater vision to see the blessings, and not take credit for the victories we have been given. Money is not a substitute for participation in recovery and discovery of skills. Being willing to be a part of the solution, not just throwing money at it, is the awakening I needed and hope others already know.

We are very grateful to all of the wonderful teachers, therapists, doctors and supporters who have helped us. I know that it’s because of their help that I hoping not to worry about the ghosts of present and future. My hope is built on something stronger and more reliable. It’s enough to give me the best Christmas I could hope for.

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