Acceptance

It is so very difficult to watch someone you love hurt so very much.


I have known P since our first day of college, the day I turned 18 by the way.  We have been friends ever since.  Dear friends.  The kind of friends who are like your sisters.  The kind of friends who get jealous of one another.  The kind of friends who would go to the wall for one another.  The kind of friends who fight, argue and hurt the other's feelings.  The kind of friends who can call each other in the middle of the night when your boyfriend has cheated on you and she'll run over and spend the night holding you.  The kind of friends who though they live in the same town, are in the same profession and work 5 miles apart only see each other at most once a year.  But when you had your baby she was at the hospital within 24 hours to meet your baby.  The kind of friends who love each other unconditionally, are 110% honest with one another be it about each other's weight or whether someone or something is good for them or not.  The kind of friend who I want to be sure I hold hands with on my last days on this earth.  And I definitely cannot wait to spend eternity with our God with her.


She has a beautiful boy who is 6y9m old.  He's handsome, funny, intense, quick to laugh and loves to run.  And he's on the autism spectrum.  He has an expressive and receptive language delay along with a sensory processing disorder.


Thursday night P, S (Tate's godmother) and I went to a college alumni happy hour.  I always bring Tate along since they're right after work, and the bars usually chosen are ones real near my house (it helps that my sister, Lindsey, is one of the chairs of our Houston Alumni Association ;) ), so we can go for a bit, I bring his dinner with me, and we come home in time for bedtime routine et al.


So, we had a great time hanging out.  I left around 6:30 with Tate.  P and S stayed, but came by my place around 8, so we could continue to hang out, drink and have some dinner.  And it was wonderful. We were freshmen together in college;  P and S were freshmen roommates and S and I were roommates our junior year (as well as being pledge sisters, S and I that is).  There were many nights spent in our dorm rooms laying about the floors eating nasty Pizza Hut, drinking wine coolers and getting ready for the latest frat party or going rolling and just doing the things girlfriends do.  Not much has changed in 30 years.  We still love to lounge about and do the same things...just with much better food and MUCH better alcohol. :)  


As we talked and laughed, I could sense a sadness about P.  Of course conversation turned to our children;  S has a almost 15 year old son and a 12 year old girl.  And P's frustration with her son's abilities or rather lack there of was patently obvious.  Comments were made, frowns were exhibited and she was almost in tears at one point.


I suggested we get our boys together on Sunday, today, to go to one of our local railroad museums.  Though A (P's son) is almost 7 he is still a huge Thomas the Train fan, which bothers P deeply.  I did ask her today who or what she thought he should be 'into' if not Thomas and/or trains and she said 'superheroes!'  But he's not, and she's having a hard time accepting that.


In any event, she's mentioned before that other children who do not have delays who are A's age tend to not want to play with him (breaks my heart) or they purposefully leave him out because of his social difficulties.  She's mentioned that he would probably do well with my Tate.  So I decided it was high time that we get these two boys together.  I told her in no uncertain terms we were going to the museum today when she said she had no other plans.


I half expected her to back out, but she didn't.  I was just thrilled!


We met there around 1:30 and it was lovely.  A seemed excited and Tate was over the moon.  Now the loud sounds of the trains going by really bothered A, so he would keep his hands over his ears whenever there were trains going by.  This occurred at least 4 times while we were there :(  (Of course Tate thought that was the best thing ever).  We were invited to watch a safety video about trains geared towards kids.   Tate was sweetly scared of the cartoon.  A seemed to tune it out immediately.  P had a hard time accepting that.

We toured the 'museum' which was actually a fabulous caboose and a coach that we all actually got to go into (and thank goodness they were air conditioned as it was over 100 degrees this afternoon).

I love watching Tate run when he's excited about something.  I feel like every leg pump, every arm swing is just emanating pure joy.  Takes my breath away.

The Caboose

Inside the coach!

  

Then we went into a room that had a huge model train set up.  It was just amazing.  Tate was in heaven.  A enjoyed it as well it seemed.  

Tate was squealing like this the entire time.  We were probably in there 10 minutes.  He was beside himself with happiness and awe.

After quite some time enjoying the set up, we were ushered into a room for the kids to play in full of Thomas paraphernalia, tracks, other trains, books .... you name it...a train loving kid's pleasure zone.


Tate, of course, doesn't play 'with' kids quite yet.  He may show them his toys, but he's not about to share and he's still at the age of playing alongside others.  Also, I think part of this not playing 'with' kids is due to the fact that he's an only child.  I'm very fortunate that Tate can play by himself for quite some time, and by quite some time I mean an hour or more.  If I walk over to play with him, he's thrilled, but he's content to play alone.  


However, A doesn't play 'with' kids either.  P quite sternly told him that they came to play with Tate and he needed to play with Tate.  I watched her watch him with haunted eyes.  I can see how much she wants him to be like other kids.  Comments to me such as "Wow, Tate answered a 'who' question, and he's only 2.  A didn't do that until he was 5" broke my heart.  Not because A didn't do that, but because it hurts her so badly.


Watching her tell him to "Look at my eyes when I'm speaking to you" because he just doesn't understand is heart wrenching for me.


We went to my parents' after the museum, so they could see P as they adore her and have not seen her in years.  Their house was on our way home.  My mom was so cute.  She had made a pound cake, got out her best dessert china and had everything laid out for us when we arrived!  Tate had a popsicle, A ate some cake as did me, P and my mom.  Tate and Papa had A join them on the sofa for some train watching on the iPad.  A lost interest quickly which was noted by sweet P.  


After about an hour the four of us got into our cars and headed home.  Tate full of happy train memories and his new friend Palomo (so not A's name!, but that's who he meant), A content and happy to be going home, me happy that the boys had such a wonderful time, but hurting so for my dear friend and P smiling, but with a smile that didn't quite reach her beautiful eyes.


I don't know how to help her, or if she really even needs my help.  I so don't want to diminish her very valid fears and concerns for her son and his future.  He is different.  He will need more help navigating his life in this world than many other children, Tate included.  It's a fine line to walk telling someone with a special needs child it will be allright, when it really won't be, yet supporting them and trying to keep their spirits up.  You don't want to minimize what they're experiencing, yet you don't want them to be so very hurt.  And I know she's not hurting like this all the time.  And I know it's got to be difficult to be around children with no visible disabilities or issues.  And it's even harder when it's with someone who you are so connected to.  And I want to say what she wants to say... "Why her?"  


I so wish she could see who/what I see when I look at A.  Such a sweet little boy.  A little lost in this big world he's been thrust into.  Imagine how he feels.  Overstimulated, out of his element, confused and unable to express his feelings so he retreats.  I can see that.  I can see that and accept him for who he is and where he is in this very moment in his life.  But it's easier for me to do that.  I know that.  I understand that.  I get that.


And because I DO get that, I can accept that P can't see what I see right now.  My fervent prayer is that one day she will see what I see AND nothing more, not who he could be, or who she wants him to be, but who he is.  


Acceptance.  So simple.  Yet so fleeting.


Friendship is acceptance.


I love you P.