learning to navigate the world, j-bear style

Month: July 2013 (Page 3 of 3)


There are some days that I get shocked to find people actually read my writing despite my stated mission of hoping that my crazy writing helps someone.

If you’re a reader who reads a lot of this and tolerates my battering of grammar and my painful run-on sentences, not to mention my spectacular typos… Thank you and bless you. Seriously.  Cause there’s some days I can’t even put up with my own writing. 

I may be overstating that a little (okay a lot) but then again I do have to actually live in my own head and let’s be clear: it’s cluttered, messy and crazy in there just like my house. 

I am accustomed to the worst. I am used to people who gain my trust just to shatter it and who say one thing while either never following through or just plain doing the opposite as though to spite their own promise. There are reasons I battle PTSD and reasons why I am not fully joking when I say I am terrified of people: I’ve seen the worst.

People talk about the day their child was diagnosed with grave devastation, with horror, with sorrow, with heartache and I have felt some of these things. I have written about my sadness and my fears. I will no doubt write about them more in the future as new situations and new turns in J’s journey bring up old fears and new. That’s not everything that has come with the journey into autism and its related disorders though.

I have met, virtually and in person, some of the most amazing people. I now interact with other special needs parents who are in varying stages of the same or similar journeys to the one I am on. I interact with people I otherwise never would have truly met. I have reconnected with relatives I have not seen since the passing of my grandmother and found that there is love and care where I thought all such things had died.

So, this morning, I am blogfaced with awe. I am surprised, humbled, joyful and given peace by what autism has actually brought into my life and my son’s. It’s funny how things work out sometimes.

Now, in an effort to live dangerously, I am going to post this without running spellcheck.

The Precious Dog

There are some to whom I may seem obsessed when it comes to J’s service dog.

I can’t see it as obsessed, for I place the same level of importance on any and all accessible tools and therapies I can find for him. I see it as doing what’s right for someone I love who needs a voice.

Does this make me a bad person? Too singularly focused? Too narrow in the direction I am driving? Maybe.

Can I feel badly about it? Not completely. Not even halfway, I think.

I have one son. One dear, small half-me person who relies on me for everything. If I had other children, the same determined dogged pursuit of all things they need and some things they want would extend to them as well. Right now, though, and likely forever I just have J. He is my world.

Yes, the dog is very precious for us. He or she embodies safety, security, companionship, assistance… This dog will open up doors to my son that I alone cannot. I can give him therapists. I can give him great schooling. I can implement his therapy at home but there is always a slight piece missing and this dog can fill those holes. He or she will be a challenge in and of themselves, for they are a dog. A living, breathing, decision-making being who will also rely on me for care and structure.

I embrace that.

The work, the devotion of the time to both boy and dog that is to come, it will be a small price to pay for my son’s world being allowed to open wider. It feels an utter pittance in comparison to knowing that if, God above forbid it, my son got away from me that he could stand a significantly higher chance of being brought back safely home.

So I will continue to pursue our fundraising. I will continue to beat the drum seeking support for his and 4 Paws cause. I won’t relent, cause this is bigger than “just a dog”. This is my son’s life, growth and care we’re talking about and there’s nothing too good for any of that.

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