This is a bittersweet week for me. It has been my honor to teach two different 4-year-old classes, in the absence of a teacher battling breast cancer. I am happy to say she has recovered and is coming back to work. We have talked on the phone and through e-mail, and I will finally meet her in person tomorrow. I feel I already know her; a brave and inspiring soul. She will be walking in to her own class-but a class I created, decorated and nurtured, so... I am leaving a piece of myself behind.
I have invested myself in these kids for almost 5 months, and tomorrow we say goodbye. I have come to love each one of them for who they are, and I live for the knowledge that I touched their lives (in some positive way) and helped them grow as individuals. I reflect on the number of times I have been in this same position. You get to know them, grow them, and then have to let go of them. In my case, there are always more students, somewhere-as a career. But this is also a truism all parents will face some day.
As the parent of an autistic child, I find it hard to envision what the future will bring...and a little scared to have big dreams. After all, I have had so many of my hopes and dreams altered by reality. My life now is not what I dreamed it would be when I was 20.
I possesed immaturity and a 'fantasy' of reality mentality. I don't NEED ballgowns and crowns to be a novel heroine, but it might be nice to feel like a pampered princess! :) I still have high hopes and daydreams, but now they are more rooted in reality.
Maybe reality is not so bad. I can say I think I am living a form of my American Dream. I have a job I love, a hobby I love, a very special son I dearly love, and have learned to live modestly, make do and be okay with it. Would I love to earn more money? Of course, but with more money comes more responsibility; to self, to family, to society.
I gave up on my dear dreams...or did I? I was able to be available for my son, available when the school needed my help in dealing with my son, and I could make myself 'unavailable' for work when I needed to recharge my soul. I guess what is dear to me has simply changed. At the time of D's diagnosis, I didn't know there were any therapies and interventions I could have enrolled him in. I might have made some different choices-based on money, had I known. Sometimes ignorance IS bliss.
While a bit like a never-ending roller coaster, my reality has also been like an exciting amusement park; scary rides, breezy tides, butting heads about which ride to ride, lots of walking in circles, sweet treats, emotional outbursts, window shopping, and tummyaches. In the end...precious bonding time was had by all.
Lucky me-I have a lifetime pass!