Six other women and myself are sitting at an oval table in a brightly lit room known as the POW office, aka Parents of Westview.  We are all mothers, mothers laughing at the travails of parenthood, at all the normal, wonderful, awful stuff it's fun to share, then the subject of allergy diets and doctors arises and the pleasant spell is broken.  My mind quickly scans the table for distraction, embraces an inanimate organizer, its familiar utility, the solid black metal, the benign group of cylinder shapes containing normal items such as pencils, small scissors, rulers, pens.  It reminds me of school, the smell of erasers, carefree days of cigar boxes full of brand new supplies and childhood bliss, then the harsh metal reality hits me.  I feel myself sliding backwards, slamming into the shock stage of grief once again as a tiny cruel voice reminds me, You are here because your son is here, in a place that is not normal, in a school for autistic children.  The other mothers are still laughing when I return, and I tiptoe, careful not to wake them.

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Tags: nonfiction

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Comment by Sissy Anderson on April 20, 2011 at 10:27pm
I just cried with a woman yesterday when she had an over due meltdown due to the fear and frustration surrounding her 14 year old son who is autistic. I just held her, what else can you do????? Good six T. Keep it up, on all fronts.
Comment by Teresa on April 16, 2011 at 10:36pm

@Deanna ~ I agree with that.  We cope.  No matter how awful something is, we do our best to cope with it.  I do pretty well, even laugh at some of the situations and am thankful I'm not in as bad a situation as other parents.  But then I remember I don't have the son I thought I would, that life won't be what we expected.  Some days that's okay and some days it's not.  That's life.

Comment by deanna dickinson mccall on April 15, 2011 at 4:45pm
I think the difference is we { mother's or caregivers of people w/ special needs) fool ourselves into thinking it is normal, but it is not normal and will never be accepted as normal. The moments in time we are allowed to forget the circumstances are precious, but deep down the awareness eventually surfaces that we believe it is a charade.
Comment by Toby Tucker Hecht on April 15, 2011 at 4:00pm
If you live with something long enough, it becomes normal.  Perhaps these mothers were a little further on the continuum of acceptance than you are.  It should be encouraging that it might be something for you to look forward to: laughing and enjoying life and being able to discuss subjects that might have been disturbing at one time--but not now.
Comment by Diana E. Backhouse on April 15, 2011 at 3:58pm
As Deanna says, you have described your feelings so well, Teresa. Like Sandra, I have erased and rewritten and erased more words, but I just couldn't manage to come up with the right words.
Comment by deanna dickinson mccall on April 15, 2011 at 3:34pm
The shock wave of reality hitting is tremendous, and you described it so well. We carry on in the world we have created where we pretend all is well and normal....until we get that slap in the face that says "wake up, pretending doesn't change a damn thing."
Comment by bolton carley on April 13, 2011 at 12:16pm
the last line is killer.  i find myself reading your pieces watching you roam in and out of these situations sometimes in your head and sometimes out of it fighting the battles.  i'm so glad you can put all of that onto paper.
Comment by Sandra Davies on April 13, 2011 at 3:20am
T - I've written and erased four comments on this, all of which trip over my ignorance.   Just to say I read, and listened.
Comment by Ian Rochford on April 12, 2011 at 10:48pm
Doubtless they each have the same moment at some time and will treat you with the same care and understanding.

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