Love is Love is Love

IMG_0384 (1).JPGI do not make New Year’s Resolutions, I make hourly resolutions. I couldn’t possibly store up all of my potential improvements to force them out in a year end blast. My journey is iterative and I’m forever fine tuning the workload. At this point there is also a collision between resolutions and  bucket list items. Kind of what do I need to do vs. what do I want to do, etc. Good news is it’s my set of lists and I can manage it any way that fits. So although I do not make New Year’s Resolutions, I do try to take a pause to appreciate my life and the people in it at this time of year. So this  year I am going to focus on love. When I watched Lin-Manuel Miranda give his Tony speech right after the Orlando shooting, he said “love is love is love….” in reference to the respect for the people who are homosexual and were victimized by the gunman. It is a great reminder and his speech really touched me. It was a rough, emotion-filled speech/sonnet fueled by his need to acknowledge the Tony he was receiving  and yet his compulsion, his pure heart, that couldn’t pass up the forum to comment on the most recent tragedy. Something about his delivery, his body language really struck me; this man feels his words, he just doesn’t say them. It was almost as if he was holding back the words but they had to escape from his brain via his mouth. Do I have that much passion about anything? Hmm, kids maybe. I actually think my main passion at this point in my life is to try. I just want to try at being better at everything. The only way for me to achieve this is to work on what is most important, the priority, my love relationships; to which I am proud to say I have plenty. So here are some of the ones that are most precious to me and my recognition for their significance in my life and my desire to enhance them.

Sibling Love: If you have a sibling and you are lucky enough to love them and feel love in return, you get it. This person who shares the unique joint perspective of growing up in the same home and watching parents and family members influence your development, there is such a crazy bond that a quick glance over dinner can say it all. I am proud to say that the shitty relationship my sister and I had growing up, the constant fighting and comparisons have been left in our childhood home and the mutual respect and fun we share now makes up for it all. Sharing the burden of our aging parents has solidified the bond even more. Fortunately we understand our individual and collective roles in the process. My sister, luckily, like me, finds humor in the humorless. We could write a book with optional titles such as “laughing at your life when you should be crying”, “Things you never thought you would hear or should hear coming from one of your parent’s mouths”, and “Who am I and how did I get here?” As far as sibling love goes, I cannot even do justice to the sibling love between my boys. They adore each other; their relationship is very complicated, yet not. Bryan may be older by 2 years and 8 months, but chronology is not a significant player in their situation. Jason has always been a very caring and loving brother. Often other people remark about how good he is with Bryan, how helpful he is, etc.  To Jason, Bryan is just Bryan, his one and only sibling, and there since his birth. I would not say I take it for granted, because that would be untrue, but if you truly know Jason at all, it’s just who he is. His level of empathy and compassion for people, not just Bryan,  is just as much a signature trait of his, as autism is for Bryan. It’s hard coded in and that’s that. And like all sibling relationships there is ebb and flow in their bond and growing pains both literally and figuratively.

Parental Love: So you know the love I feel from my mom has changed dramatically over the last few years. I no longer have the ability to call her multiple times each day just to share something funny or get some advice. I no longer have that confidant who always had my back and thought I was the jammy jam. My mom was so reasonable and so thoughtful in her advice and she had many close long term friends who also feel the void. In later years she really helped me navigate tricky waters between my dad and my ex husband and ultimately was very supportive when I began to speak with her about my ailing marriage. She was a homemaker and not a career woman in any way and we talked about how different our lives  were and we agreed we each were programmed so differently that we could not walk each other’s path through life. My mother respected me as a woman, mother and business person. What propels me now when I see her is this need to be even better because I don’t have her to talk to. I want to show her, or really me, that I can be a “big girl” and handle things. In order for me to move forward I need to have personal goals; some very tangible and achievable and some more esoteric which manifest on the fly. Either way, I want my Mom’s legacy, for me, to be that I am that girl she loved and respected. I need to earn my way. With my Dad it’s become such an interesting change. I was always daddy’s girl and he looked at me with love and pride since childhood. Over the years there have been tons of bumps and bruises but now we are on a steady course, banded together over decisions for my mom  and forging ahead with his new and uncertain life.

Mommy love: Is there anything so great? Before you have a kid you hear about this gripping bond people feel for their children. You think it must be something special but you cannot truly conceive of it. The little angel appears and you think, “oh so this is what they were talking about!!!” Take my heart, melt it over and over again. And then when it was time for another, you think can I really love another one just as much? Yep you can and you do. My boys are my joy, my focus, my reason, my why. Their triumphs are mine and their challenges, well yep get those too. ‘Nuf said.

Bryan/Autism love: The kid knows how to work the fan club. He is a one man PR specialist for autism awareness. He loves to love and reaches out on a daily basis to friends, family, teachers, therapists, counselors, etc via facebook, facetime etc. I am truly fascinated and beyond appreciative of the warm reception he receives most of the time. Whenever talking to the recipient of these daily calls, etc. they feel special, as if contact from him is directed only at them. Who does not want to talk to someone who makes them feel special? Autism, however, is still so challenging, imagine having someone in your home who literally cannot stop talking or repeating and at the same time is so anxious the minute they sense you are not happy with them and what they are talking about. It’s the ultimate test for Jason and me on a daily basis. But somehow Bryan’s sweet goofiness, his silly inappropriate behavior more often than not forces a chuckle between us and we forge ahead. When meeting my cousins a few days ago for lunch,  I was so happy with the way they celebrated his silliness and made him feel just like he was “one of the kids”. We have tons of friends near and far that are cheering for him. No real words suffice.

Friend love: I am truly beyond lucky to have wonderful lifelong friends. My bestie  is a lifer and she is my touchstone for all things. My close inner circle of female friends are a combo of coaches, partners in crime and sisters from other misters. My close friends are not limited to women, however, I have some incomparable male friends that I adore. Some of my friends live nearby but often they are in NY, solidifying my need for quarterly visits up north. Over my years in Florida, I have made many new friends that have started out either as “autism parents” that morphed into real friends or “work colleagues” that have also become warm, true friends. What I value besides the loyalty and trustworthiness of my friends is the variety. Some friends are more advice givers, some are more just buddies for happy hour. Either way, I love observing human nature and understanding the different dynamics.  I am a very social person and I enjoy hearing other’s life stories. At this point in my life we have all lived a while and no one is without some sort of challenge, lesson, or funny anecdote which I find very captivating.

Cousins/extended family love: If you know me personally, you know my cousins are not cousins they are brothers/sisters, nephews and nieces. One of the main attractions for living in Florida was the proximity to this crazy clan and you just have to see my face when I’m with them. The depth of these relationships is personified through unending teasing, laughter and appreciation. If you go to one of our events and you left your thick skin home, well sorry Charlie, you are screwed. The need to laugh at yourself through the eyes of those you love is a great lesson. It is so freeing to know you can be yourself with a large group of people who will take you down and build you up inside of any group gathering. The link between us and our kids is one of the best parts of my life and although I tell them all of the time how much I love them, they know just by my body language displayed at any event.

Pet love: This one should be quick. Furry creatures make me happy. A curl up on the couch with a yummy dog or cat is therapeutic and warm. I love my animals, they are family and they make our lives better.

Romantic love: It is always a necessary part of life for me. I am a very affectionate person and I would like to say I have fallen in love since my divorce. I have not. I have fallen in like once or twice which is electrifying!  I have found some connections and have had fun along the way. I have learned that I am still capable of having great romantic feelings and that feels awesome. I believe real love is out there for me and I will not settle or fail to take risks to find it. No pain, no gain. Simple but true. I am totally willing to be in the game for the better of team me.

Happy 2017!

 

Crank it up!

Science question: You’re driving and you have the music on; something good and loud, like the Who, We Don’t Get Fooled Again, what is the decibel level required to drown out the voices in your head? This is not rhetorical people; I need the info. Over the last week so many f-ed up things have occurred that I truly believe only a heartfelt, drug inspired 70’s real rock song could block out the noise. You know something you can crank up and sing because you know all of the words and although you know your voice stinks, it completely doesn’t matter. It also doesn’t matter that your windows are down and sunroof is open, you need to let it out. Feel free to substitute any song you like; I just happen to love the Who and the righteous, guttural way Roger Daltrey belts them out. I always see him in my mind’s eye as Tommy  in those jeans and shirtless, with the long curls,  singing his heart out(just to me of course) and well, that definitely helps get the adrenaline flowing. tommySo….please feel free to email me, text me, IM, twitter, instagram, snap chat, call or snail mail me the answer. I need it. You see I drove to work this morning and no matter how loud I made it and how loud I sang, no dice. Still couldn’t block out the noise in my head. You know something is pretty messed up when your kid says, “you probably shouldn’t blog about this one if you know what I mean”. I do. The actual event or events are not always the hardest part to fathom, but the processing, the clean up of the carnage, well that’s where the real work gets done. The carnage here was bloody and messy and no amount of mopping seemed to do the trick.

It’s  fair to say that you really can’t control most things that happen in your life. As those of us know who have been through therapy and/or are introspective in any way, you know that you can only control your own responses to what happens in life and choose the way you want to handle the damage control. These things are always easier said than done, and emotions have a way of clouding judgment.  What happens when things are unfolding before you and you think to yourself, um, why is this happening and now what the hell am I going to do? How does this get corrected? When things occur and the boys are impacted, I feel like I want to shout out “cut, let’s try this one again”.  When things are going on right in front of you and you are processing them it is not easy to step outside of yourself and say, “hmm, how am I going to handle this situation so my children are not damaged, hurt or angry.” These questions are rhetorical. I was meeting with some folks from my Leadership Broward group yesterday (#LB35 #highfive) and one of the team members is gay and he was discussing the parenting classes he and his husband have to take to adopt a child. Parenting classes? What is this thing you speak of my friend? My mind wandered to a place where I thought, shouldn’t basic parenting classes be required for everyone? Shouldn’t basic human decency classes exist? I guess those things are left up to your parents if you have kids the old fashioned way. In light of the events of my weekend, I was definitely more focused on this topic than I typically would have been. Maybe my personal sensitivity to the challenges of parenting this weekend cast a brighter light on our conversation.

It is my opinion that success, in any form, is not only the result of hard work and a little luck but overcoming some obstacle or plowing through some roadblock. People who have it too easy have nothing to grind against, nothing to strive for that requires the type of deep soul searching and tenacity that propels a breakthrough. I feel this way about innovation and technology, the problem solving aspect, but also the resolve. If I didn’t have autism in my life, I would not have learned what I am capable of. I love when people tell me how much patience I have. I think, “are you talking about me?” I spent the first half of my life so impatient and wound up. I do have a lot of patience now, but it didn’t come from anything natural, it came from survival and for the sheer need and desire to be the parent Bryan needed me to be. How could I face my beautiful boy if I couldn’t be kind and patient with him? (Believe me I have fallen off that wagon a million times, and many of you out there have witnessed it).  Autism is a disorder not a behavior. Would you lose patience if your kid was puking, well maybe that’s a bad example, but you know what I mean. An invisible disorder is still a disorder and needs to be treated accordingly.  I’m still a work in progress, for sure. So by now you may be wondering, why are we talking about success and overcoming obstacles when we were just talking about cleaning up an emotional mess?  The thing I guess I’m grappling with is how much is ok for our kids to have to deal with? How much shielding is good, how much is overprotective? Where are the lines drawn and who has the damn manual? Can I get it on my kindle? These questions in my head just beg for seriously loud music.

 

Good Feelings Gone

nemoYou know that scene in Finding Nemo where Marlin and Dory are swimming and are feeling happy. On their quest to find Nemo they encounter various sea creatures and obstacles, but at this moment happiness abounds.  They are circling around and gently gliding along, as if all was right with the world. They feel encapsulated with a careless warmth. They are oblivious to the scary big fish luring them in with his magical soft light. The fish goes in for the kill and Dory shouts “good feelings gone!” Just like that they are now swimming for their lives, dodging the scary fish and hoping to escape. I get this feeling sometimes like things are moving along really well, work is going well, boys are doing well and I’m doing well emotionally, physically and spiritually, and then something or someone will crank up the buzzkill and all goodness will collapse into air.

Working at the place I do, which is fabulous, December is over the top. We are rewarded financially and valued beyond comprehension for our efforts. The shot of financial and thankful adrenaline propels us to a great start for the new year. I was able to share with my kids and express to them the ever important lesson of hard work reaps great benefits. I think they are now at an age and a mental capacity to not only understand this literally but feel it in their hearts. Last weekend I went on a super fun excursion to the Bahamas. I had looked forward to going and except for less than stellar weather, it surely didn’t disappoint. I am always trying to find the lesson; for the boys they are obvious, basic growing up lessons, for me, to appreciate what I have, to live life with fun and joy and focus on what are truly the sweetest parts of life.

However, and of course there is always a however or a but, the tough reality of my responsibility load is never too far in the shadows. Of course I never really escape my responsibilities, but a pina colada at a gorgeous resort can somehow stay them for a while. Over the years there have been many reality jolts that have sent me into a downward spiral; a work issue, a Bryan issue, etc. The squeaky floorboard of an issue could not be silenced and essentially my whole house would collapse over it. At this point in my life’s journey I am no longer demolishing the house over a squeaky floorboard or a shorted outlet. My skin is thicker, tougher and experience is the quintessential professor. Last night I got home after a very challenging day at work. I needed to process what had occurred and figure out the best way to remove any emotional feelings from what happened and apply logic and said experience. The only way for me to do this, is to distract myself enough so that my head clears of the problem for re focus at a later time. Clarity for me requires emotional distance and at least at this point in my life, I know it. I decided to have a conversation with the boys about a short vacation over Xmas week. Inasmuch as we had two trips this year, to DC and LA, I am not in the position to do anything crazy, and I do want to take them to Europe next year, so I just was looking for a little getaway. Well, here’s what I learned. Autism is alive and well in my home. We talked about Busch Gardens, Captiva, Marco Island, Vero, etc. We talked about Orlando, the Keys, Miami Beach, Ft. Lauderdale Beach, staycation stuff etc. Bryan flipped out. He is great with transitioning if he knows the plan. This abstract, what if, why, how, discussion that Jason and I were having, including visuals on my open laptop, just stressed him to the max. His anxiety level was so amped up that it was visual and palpable. The power struggle between the boys heated up and a physical skirmish ensued. So as the Mom, who is now way smaller than either of these two testosterone filled teenage boys, I kind of need to get out of the way or I’m going to end up across the room. But since I am the authority, police, dictator (no it’s not a democracy in my house), I had to call to order. A few slammed doors later everyone was in their own corner and I was able to sit down and figure out what the heck just happened. I was grappling between, damn these two spoiled kids can’t agree on a vacation, wah wah wah, and hmm, maybe I allowed for too much speculation, too much input to make this easy. I then had to visit the prisoners to sort out the damage. Bryan is way better now at self soothing and while he couldn’t stop expressing his remorse and his anxiety, the physical control now present is critical to my survival. Jason is trickier to navigate since he gets me more and took the zero and fessed up a fairly heartfelt apology. At this point, I’m done, toast, spent. Went upstairs took a hot bath and crawled into bed. Today is a new day and I’m ready for it.

What does the J stand for?

I go to see my Mom in her new place on the weekends. Yesterday, Bryan and I went on our way to his usual speech therapy and social group. We planned a regular visit which is about 20-30 minutes. I typically like to take her for a walk. She doesn’t talk much and mostly I feel like Shecky Greene doing a monologue (if you are too young to know who that is google it) but I try to get her out in the fresh air and talk about what’s going on in our lives. The bad news is she doesn’t remember what I tell her, the good news I can tell her the same things over and over and she doesn’t get bored. Ok, I know that’s really not funny, but humor is my way of coping and at this point, nothing about this is funny so I have to make a joke out of it. We sat down outside at a table and Bryan was looking at his phone. I wear a “J” initial necklace and my mom said to me, “what does the J stand for?”. I said “Jane” and there was nothing but an “oh, ok” from my Mom. I had to look away. I felt that hot feeling come over me, and no not a hot flash, but that feeling like when you are holding back tears and/or vomit. I thought for sure she might say something like “my daughter’s name is Jane or right”. I don’t care for the expression “the new normal” but somehow it’s fitting. We left not too long after and I didn’t cry when we left. I took Bryan to his speech therapy and sat in the car for a few minutes reflecting. How does the brain  retain so much info and then slowly lose it all. Fortunately, for now she still recognizes me when I come to see her. She doesn’t know that I’m her daughter, but she does know she knows me. She is always excited to see us; at least for now. The strange thing in all of this is even though she does not recall details, like my name or how I am related to her, she does know that I belong to her. Last week when I was there we sat on a bench and we flipped the pages of People magazine.She likes to look at the photos and it does help give me some things to say to her. We notice the fashion and the ads. She looked at me and said “we love each other”. I smiled but again my eyes filled with tears; much happier tears. When I leave her and  I’m alone I always break down. She is doing well, but the reality that she is not ever coming home still gets me each time.

When I go now it reminds of a time when Bryan could not really make a sentence or have true conversation. I remember when we were still living in NY and I took him alone out to dinner. His inability to make an exchange, even in a small sentence, was a big trigger for me to know he was not a typical child. Ironically my mom is now very similar to that small Bryan. I guess the best lesson is that it doesn’t matter whether they can answer back as long as they know they are loved.