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Saturday, August 13, 2011

50. How-To Christmas

Christmas mornings were interesting. They were as exciting as they could be for a child with autism. And who am I to say, really? I felt like a cheerleader trying to excite Sean. My heart would sink a little when I watched Sean walk past his wrapped presents each year. I usually had to place a gift in his hand and show him what to do with it but at least he responded to the unwrapped gifts without prompting. I had to look at the bright side. At least he could see and hold them. There was much to be grateful for despite his inability to connect to things I felt he might connect with. After all, I filled out his wish list.

Sean's third Christmas

Luckily this train set was turned on, 
otherwise, Sean would have walked right past it. 
This was a very happy moment for all of us.
Sean was four.

I'm pretty sure I put this present in Sean's hands. 
He eventually learned what to do. 
He is about five years old here.
Better delayed than never.


I celebrated Sean's accomplishments but was glad that Savannah was all over Christmas! Luckily, my focus was quickly shifted to her joy. Her joy became mine. She could always redirect me.

49. Seasons Change Us

The holidays were always a time when the edginess in the house softened. My husband and I were kinder to one another. We pulled together for the sake of parties and playing Santa. I don't particularly remember honoring Christ the way I had in the past during these years. I was unable, just yet, to see the gifts that Sean's autism gave to anyone who was willing to receive them, much less me. 

The cooler climate played a part in our newly rediscovered cohesiveness. The heat in The Valley began to cool in November. It just felt better outside. The air was crisp and refreshing. It was a time to celebrate family. Because our extended families lived so far away, Pat and Jack opened their home to us for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner. Nan (#2), flew in from Chatom. Her parents - The Smiths -Chuck and Nan (#1) came from Buffalo, NY each year to settle in as Winter Texans so, it was like a family reunion at Pat and Jack's house. Their extended families often came as well. We were thankful to be included.

Pat and I made trips to Mexico to buy gifts and party goods for the Christmas season. It became tradition for us to eat and drink at a restaurant in Progreso called Arturo's at the end of each shopping spree. Arturo's was a place Pat and I often met because it was halfway from where each of us lived. We met there pretty often to catch up. My visits with Pat at Arturo's are some of my most cherished memories. We were often  crowded in among Winter Texans and random tourists but life for me at those moments were peaceful. We sang along with the organ music and participated in The Chicken Dance. We continued to sing hymns from memory as often as we were called to do so. Each time we talked and partied, I forgot about life for awhile. I lived, breathed and ate autism every waking hour except for my times with Pat. Her friendship was my gift. 

~praise God, from who all blessings flow~