75. Inner Strength

Andrew Wyeth . Wind From the Sea . 1948

Monarch The aria slid past sheers, filled the iron room with feather-soft notes. The music took her face from the pillow, mesmerized her sorrow. Her worries squirmed in her underbelly like half-butterflies in search of detail, identity and light. The sparrow-song set the tempo, cocooned the fear of what-to-do wonder. She peeled back the quilt, gave milkweed skin to sun-silk heat. Her sorrow flew to the throat of the bird. It did not swallow, instead, it sang a new song, and created a monarch. ©2000 Peggy Putnam Owen

74. Super Human

Within a two week period, the children were in a brand new school and home without the comfort of all of their familiar things. I grabbed what I thought would be the things they would grab on my way out of Harlingen but later Savannah would ask things like, "Did you get my marble game"? I always spoke the truth about the move but somehow I think Savannah knew way before I did that her dad and I should either be apart or quit our nonsense. 

Savannah was excited to be around her cousins who lived just around the curve so I didn't worry about her too much. I worried about her in school but at least she had the balance of family close by. Sean was a different story. He had tantrums every day which was not unusual except that he was in a new place and had yet another reason to throw down. I burst on the scene with him and the school was not prepared. Even though it was their "job", Ms. Hughes and Ms. Murray were two of his best teachers in that they handled him with great patience and genuine super human effort to help Sean communicate and accept the transition. They only had a month left before summer which probably helped!! Sean qualified for school in the summer which was minimal but very helpful. They had time to hire Ms. Wright, his one-on-one para-pro to help him ease into first grade. 

Even though I'd left one battle behind, little did I know that my biggest battle was just beginning. I had to constantly draw on my inner strength and focus on the possibilities. I was going to make things right. I was coming out of denial and correcting the wrong. I believed in myself. Didn't I?

73. Stalling

Since I was served divorce papers in Texas, I had to appear in court a week after I'd made the move to Birmingham. I had booked a flight before Dad and I left the Smith's, so it was just a matter of making sure the children were taken care of and taken care of they were. 

The week before I flew out of Birmingham I managed to get replacement birth certificates, social security cards, blue forms, and the kids enrolled into Mountain Brook Elementary. During the collecting of my things, I neglected to take the filing cabinet with all of our documents in it. The cabinet was destroyed so I had to start from scratch. The stars were aligned and new files were created.

With the support of Jo and Gary and my good friend Beth, I was able to work some to help establish (to the court) the fact that I was already "dug in". I was not returning to Harlingen even though it was requested by the "other side". My new home was in Birmingham.

The court date was set on a Friday so I made it down to Pat's on Thursday night. This hearing was to prevent me from moving myself and the children to Birmingham. If ruled in his favor, it would only put off the inevitable - I was going to live in Birmingham! Besides that, I was already there! I arrived at the courtroom in Harlingen bright and early in my borrowed dress and shoes. I was nervous and felt my emotions rising up in my throat. This was it. I turned the corner and saw my husband's "team" of supporters, and I sunk. I had no one with me. I hurried to the bathroom, went into the stall and broke down. I was mostly hurt to see our counselor, the preacher man aka Woody, there on his side. As hurtful as it was to see him there, it explained my instincts about the counseling to begin with. He didn't offer counseling to support me too. He was there to try and fix me. Aren't counselors suppose to be neutral?

In less than ten minutes I dried my tears, gave myself a good pep talk, pulled up my big girl panties again and marched right out of that bathroom with my head held high. I stood within eyeshot of the other side and occasionally glanced at his whispering team of supporters. I finally went into the courtroom and listened to the other cases to pass the time. When the case of "Owen vs. Owen" came up, the two attorneys represented each of us and within a matter of thirty minutes, the judge ruled that I did not have to move back to Harlingen. Child support was established *whoopie cushion noise* and I was free to go.

On my way back to Pat's I stopped by Houston Elementary and talked to Sean's first teacher, Sylvia. I was thankful for being able to look her in the eye one last time and let her know what she meant to all of us.

By the time I made it to Pat's house the tension in my shoulders lessened, and my thoughts about the morning were farther apart. It was hard to believe that a month earlier I was planning a more peaceful, agreeable end to my marriage. 

Turned out that the court date was scheduled on the same day as Jack's birthday party so even though I was not in the best of moods, it was a wonderful distraction. 

I flew home the next day to face a harder truth. Sean still had autism.

72. Changing Lanes

My dad had rented a Penske Truck for five days. Within these five days our goal was to drive ten hours to Harlingen, load it, stay the night at Pat and Jack's, head to Shreveport the next day, do some more planning, gather the children, drive to Birmingham, put my dad on a midnight train back to Shreveport, find an apartment, unload the Penske Truck, and return it at the local Penske Truck place in Birmingham. Mission accomplished!

Booyah!

:an exclamatory statement, often said when someone is extremely overjoyed. Often people do a hand movement simultaneously as they say 'Booyah'(clinching fist and thrusting their elbow downward vertically)

I threw in an extra hand movement too. *evil grin* What? I couldn't help myself. I waved "goodbye" to my past life, is all. 

It was time to get busier. And busier, I got!

71. Pressure Release

Sean had just turned six when the bulging bottom had finally fallen out of our home life. All of us were feeling the strain. Sean was not yet potty trained in the #2 area but he had mastered the #1. I was standing there once when he was training for #1 and after he peed for what seemed to be for-feakin'-ever, he looked into the toilet and did the sign for yellow. Along with it he said, in a slow deep voice, "Yeeeellllooow". "Bipers" were costly so I really wanted him to move on and do the deed in the toilet. He knew the sign for 'brown' too. I thought, 'Come on, already!'

While dad and I were 'killin' time' in Texas, my mom was in Shreveport with the kids. I can't even imagine what it was like for her but as always, according to her, everyone was fine and dandy. Dad and I stayed two nights on the road but by the time we got back to Shreveport, Sean had taken his first dump in the toilet! I was almost jealous that I hadn't been there to witness it! I couldn't help but understand it all. It couldn't have been a coincidence. Sean was away from me and his dad long enough to relax and take a dump. It all came down to pressure in more ways than one. All I could do was give him a "high five".

70. Knock Knock

I pulled out of Pat and Jack's driveway, said, "Goodbye" to Harlingen and hit the gas. I planned to make the trip in two days so I wasn't in any real hurry on either day. I was heading to my folks in Shreveport but I knew that ultimately I would end up in Birmingham.

My sister and brother-in-law Jo and Gary and two of their five children came to visit us in Harlingen a month earlier. Jo is a friend I met at The University of Montevallo back when life was simple. I married her brother in 1986. My mother-in-law came to visit us too.

Jo and Gary became witnesses to our marital dysfunction and offered me helpful advice. Get the hell out or I'll kick your ass! They helped me see that life without my marriage was possible. I grabbed hold of their reassurance and within a month I was heading North with little more than the shirt on my back.

I had a lot to think about, loose ends to tie, and plans to make. I was really scrambling and flying by the seat of my big girl panties but I was flying! If I remember correctly, Sean was a complete angel. Either that or I was so enthralled in deciding my next move that the autism took a back seat. Everything was uncertain except that I was soon to be divorced. I had planned to file in Alabama so the jurisdiction would be there instead of Texas. There were no emotional ties to Harlingen except to my friends Pat and Jack.

We made it to my parents home after two exhausting days of travel. It was nice to be home. I knew between my dad and I, we could make headway on some plans. We wasted no time. It was a chocked full two weeks before the children and I rested in our apartment in Birmingham. Before this could happen, my dad and I had to caravan down to Harlingen - he, driving a Penske truck and me in my Toyota. We had a day to pack my things. My husband had been generous enough to get some of his co-workers to meet us and help with the heavy things. Then dad and I packed the smaller things. While doing so, there was a knock on the door. I answered it. The man asked me if I was "Peggy Owen" and as quick as I could say, "ye...", the papers were served and he was gone in a flash.

After a complete meltdown, my dad had me in a lawyer's office within the hour.

During this whole ordeal, I learned a lot from watching my father. It would serve me well in the years to come.

69. Adios

Now that the decision to go to my parent's in Shreveport was made I could relax somewhat. I had very mixed feelings about leaving but I knew that since the children and I had been taken to a shelter, I needed to stick with the advice they had given me. Basically it was that I shouldn't return home. I had no time to mourn the loss of our home so I just continued to stay in the proactive mindset. My mind was humming. I called Savannah and Sean's teachers and told them that the children wouldn't come back to school and that they would never see them again. I was especially emotional when talking to Sean's teachers, Sylvia, and Mrs. Livingston because they had been there for us since Sean was first diagnosed with autism. They were the early intervention pioneers in our lives. They worked extremely hard to pull Sean out of himself and hone his communication skills. They taught me too. They were tough. They were consistent and truly fine examples of how all teachers should be. I was afraid to make the transition without them. I prayed for Sean's future teachers to be as patient and understanding. Setting up my support system as soon as I got settled in Birmingham, more specifically, Mountain Brook was priority. I had miles to go in a short time before then.

Pat's husband Jack (of Jack's Homemade Margaritas) took my car to be serviced before I made the ten hour drive to Shreveport. I had an old Corolla that hadn't been serviced in some time. My car was never the car that got all the attention so it was quite neglected and costly. Jack made sure it was ready to roll. He never took a dime from me. What a blessing of security. 

The night before we left was bittersweet. I was ready to start a new chapter but I didn't want to leave my loving friends. Besides that, Pat was throwing a big birthday celebration for Jack at the end of the month and I didn't want to miss it! I didn't want to say goodbye this way but it had to be so. I don't remember if I slept very much at all that night but the next morning I was looking at life in a new light.

I packed the car with the few things I had taken the night we abruptly left, so all that was left to do was say, "Goodbye." As I hugged Pat, she gave me a wad of cash with a look on her face that said, "Take it and shut up." so I did. I began to cry but Pat said, "You're going to be okay."

And I believed her.

68. Interference

When we arrived at the Smith's house the children began to play as if it were any other visit. My children, quirks and all, were always made to feel at home at Pat's house. There was plenty of space to breathe too. Lord have mercy, we needed space to breathe! I felt my throat open up, my brow soften and my jaw loosen. As far as my mind was concerned it felt like I was on a fast train watching the outside world zing past me. I had to focus.

Several months previously I decided I was leaving the marriage so I began making plans. Plan A meant that the children would finish out the school year, then we would move to Birmingham near family, then I would file for divorce. Plan A sure as hell got bumped to Bum Flip Egypt so Plan B had to be planned and fast. I felt stuck. I likened it to the way Sean must have felt when we had to pick up his line made from video tapes because it prevented the garage door from being opened and he "needed" it open. Sometimes the undesired plan is the only one to follow.

While at Pat's I began making phone calls to find some free legal advice regarding my parental rights before leaving Texas. It wasn't easy. Savannah went to school with Pat's daughter Alyson so I took Sean with me to the "first come first serve legal counsel" cattle call back in Harlingen. I picked a number but it wasn't called. I ultimately went to a women's advocate organization and was reassured that I wouldn't be breaking any laws if I left the state with the children. I was reminded that even though Savannah and Sean were both of ours, I was their Mother. So, Sean and I went back to the car where I called my parents on Pat's cell phone. I burst into tears for the first time since we had left and said, "I'm coming home." 

I didn't realize how exhausted I was until I spoke those words. I looked at Sean and remembered that he was my strength. Savannah was my peace. With strength and peace, support from friends and family, and a place to go, we were going to be okay. Nothing was going to get in the way.

67. D is for Done

Savannah and Sean were asleep in their room, unaware that they were about to be plucked from their beds to never return to their home in Harlingen, Texas.

My dad made the call from Shreveport as I sit in my room waiting for the police to come. I had asked him to do it so I could get off the phone as soon as possible. Everything was so calm and quiet. I could hear my heart pound in my head. There was no other sound.

My husband was surprised when he answered the knock. I started breathing again and came out of my bedroom. They separated us to question us. It was obvious to the Officer that I had reached my limit. I wanted to take the children and a few of their favorite things and never look back. I was willing to leave everything else.

It was about eleven P.M. by the time I drove away from a home that the children never returned to. I am not sure why the Officer told my husband they were escorting us to a shelter. I had not been physically assaulted. Apparently, he felt like we needed to be in a sheltered environment. All I wanted to do was get to the room my dad had reserved at La Quinta. I needed to sleep then construct a plan. I knew I needed to get as much information on record as possible, so I followed the advice of the Officer. The children were clueless and quiet. I found out later that Savannah was worried about being awakened because it was a school night. They never returned to their schools.

After a very long intake, it was close to two in the morning by the time we were taken to our room. It was impossible to stay another night at the shelter and follow the house rules. Sean was adventurous and hard to manage. I decided to leave the next afternoon. Somehow, in the midst of trying to leave, I locked my key in the trunk. I always kept a spare wired to the underside of the car but when I went to get it, it was gone. I sunk to the ground. I had a weak moment but in that moment I reminded myself that I was now in control. The key had been removed - so what? 

I called the locksmith then I called my beloved friend Pat. Without hesitation she offered us her home. As I made my way to Pat's I thought about the last sixteen years. Finally, something had taken my mind off the autism.

"I don't ever remember feeling this awake" ~Thelma

66. The D Word

I had done my best to do what I was supposed to do when a marriage is falling apart. I went to counseling. I followed the self-help advice. I listened. And I listened. And I listened. The record was most definitely broken.

I'm not sure who blurted out the D word first but I never let it go. D is for drama too, and there had been enough to make me want to return to Alabama where some of my closest friends lived. I knew that Pat and I would see each other so I didn't worry about missing her to terribly much. She supported my decision to move on with my life. She had been my sounding board for the past two years. I listened to myself as she listened to me. It was a mental process. Even though I had nothing to live on, I had to visualize and have faith that things could be more peaceful for me and the children. Once I did so, there was no stopping me but it would take some time.

I kept hearing him say:

"You are forty years old and have an autistic son! Just what do you think you're gonna do?"

I didn't know. I was scared to death. Before the final move there were some short term separations. Because of them, I could catch my breath and think. Everything was moving so quickly. The phone calls to my parents, his mother, the counselor, his friends, and anyone else who would listen to him continued. The dirty laundry had been officially aired. My parents were miles away in Shreveport. They felt helpless. They feared for me.

After a hellacious weekend, that Sunday night in April, I called my parents from my bedroom and said: 

"I'm ready to make my move. Call the police and book me a room."

65. He Lives!

I felt it was too late for counseling. We were discussing divorce more times than not, so as I was mentally preparing for it, my husband was grasping for anything that would help us stay together. I don't think either of us were clear on anything except that, "it just wasn't working." 

As I remember it, our last counseling session was at our home. The preacher was a very tall and lanky man. He had sharp facial features and this day he was wearing a plaid shirt or a denim one, whichever. As we were quietly "talking things out" Sean would bounce in occasionally from the back of the house to check things out. He did this a couple of times but the last time he was carrying his Woody doll. He walked over and  handed it to the preacher man. The preacher smiled and talked to Sean for a little bit but as I was watching I noticed that the preacher man looked... just... like... Woody! 

I got nervous and started laughing. This is never good. I couldn't explain why either. When the preacher was talking to Sean, I tried to secretly explain to my husband but he didn't get it until later. Sean was spot on! He was a giddy little guy too. Woody was ALIVE and in OUR living room (and trying to save the day)!

After Sean's keen observation, I couldn't pay attention to anything else. I was trying to be serious but when looking at Woody, how could I be? 

Most of all I was impressed with Sean. I loved that he noticed the physical similarities between the preacher man and Woody. It was worth all of the nervous laughter in the world! I think Sean appreciated that I "got it" too.

64. Third Parties

I was the type that didn't want anyone to "know my business", so I didn't talk much about our problems! My husband, however, decided to discuss it with anyone who would listen. I wasn't happy about this. My parents were called numerous times -not by me- and informed of all of their daughter's wrongdoings. Oh, the list went on and on. Luckily we lived far from my closest friends, besides Pat, otherwise he would have called them too. I was embarrassed for him.

By the time the counselor was called in to do damage control, I was emotionally turned off. I knew that I needed to at least give counseling a try, though. The counselor that my husband chose was a Baptist preacher. He knew him from his work in some way. The sessions were about an hour long and free so what the heck? I remember one session in particular. Near the end of it, my husband said, "I am concerned for her spirituality because she said she wanted to throw our son out the window and that she hated God."

I tried to put that loaded statement into context before he ended the session but all I heard was:

"Times up."

I was stunned. I was pissed. This counselor knew very little about the effect that autism had on all of us, not just ME. When we were going through it all I had discussed my brutally honest feelings with my husband and he seemed to understand. He lived the life too and had to walk away many times for fear of hurting Sean.

With little time to defend my long ago spoken words, I left the office realizing that it wouldn't have mattered. I knew in my heart that my love for my son kept him safe. I knew I had to give air to my thoughts so I talked about them. I couldn't let them sit inside my head long enough for them to convince me that they were justified. As for hating God, I did, but only temporarily.

63. A Silent Message

Friday nights at home were the nights when the beer flowed way too much and way too easily. It was the routine. It was a ritual. It was the way it was and the way it was was the way it WAS. We settled into the weekend as most families do but apparently we felt the need to numb our pain in the process. We watched movies and drank. We had fun. Why shouldn't we? Why wouldn't we? Why couldn't we? We talked and talked and talked until I was the only one listening. Those Friday nights  of listening carried over into the wee hours of Saturday morning. I was a random toy stuck in one of Sean's circles - I was our pet hamster on the wheel - I was Monday thru Sunday. 

One particular Friday night Sean tripped on the mini trampoline that had to be in the center of the living room. As he was walking into the small hallway we said, (from our beer drinking places), "Buddy, are you okay?"

We saw his shoulders shake a little as though he was crying in pain but he didn't make a sound. We both looked at one another, got up to follow him and sat down with him at the end of the hallway in front of his closed bedroom door. We began consoling him at the same time, "Ohhh Buddy! I know that hurt! Sean let me see. Just rub your leg and it'll be okay...sugar honey pie, lemme kiss it!"

For some reason we, (his buzzing parents) began to argue, each of us saying things like: "Don't touch him, he's going to be fine. He doesn't want you to make a big deal out of it. Just let him get up on his own... blah blah blah!" We were in a standing position by now.

As we were arguing Sean stood up. He quietly and very slowly took my hand. He opened his door, escorted me in and closed the door with his father on the other side. Sean was looking at the floor as we stood there, our bodies facing the door. We stood there long enough for me to process what just happened before I said, "I hear you, Buddy. I - hear - you!"


My buzz was gone.

62. The Lack of Empathy

My marriage was in trouble. I kept asking myself how it "got to this point", and I couldn't map it out. I was beginning to see that I was extra super good at being in denial, though. I was also beginning to feel that life was too short for living in a situation that wasn't right for both of us. For all of us. I had taken vows and wanted to honor them so much that I denied the reality. I lost sight of myself as I was living my husband's life as well as Savannah and Sean's. The autism had a way of helping me map things out. As I was forced to analyze Sean's every move, I began to do the same with my own. I was about to be forty - was it a midlife crisis? I was writing more and more about the state my marriage was in. Thoughts of unfinished business kept creeping in so much that I couldn't suppress them like I had many years ago. The death of my dog Allie, was at the forefront. She was killed early on in the marriage. I  swallowed the pain the day it happened. I buried it deep inside, and talked about it as though it was "just a thing that happened."

Allie began to "speak" to me. Her spirit rose up in me and strengthened me. It would take years before I could make sense of her death. It would take years to see that autism played a hand. 

61. "Big Fish and Fairy Tales"

I've known you all my life--

Rumpelstiltzkin too, so what? 
I've read the proverbs, tales, 
miracles; 

Death to life, masses of manna, 
son sacrifices, straw into gold, 
Why not? and calmed seas. 

And there is still all this wine, 
and I want water. 

Villagers, messengers, 
and prophets seek your name, 
want to watch you dance 
'round the flames, 

sing the agenda of tomorrow; 

know which child you'll take. 

I sit on the shore and listen 
to the conch simulate the ocean, 
swear it is the echo of Jonah 
screaming to be free. 

If my son returns 
I will name him "Jonah". 
Ask what he learned 
from the "big fish". 
I will read him Rumpelstiltzkin, 
and I will no longer 
be torn in two.

©2000 Peggy Putnam Owen

60. Dino Art

Sean's Steg

age 5

Sean's Triceratops

age 5

59. In Acappella

My life in Harlingen was wearing on me. I was pretending to be happy, but it was getting harder and harder to do. I worried so much about the future of my children. Their exposure to such negative energy in the house was harder to explain. The air was thick, and I was suffocating. I was struggling so much that I began imagining myself with my children on our own, away from my marital responsibilities. Our home was toxic.

To try and make things better for Savannah, I would watch "The Land Before Time" movies with her in her room. She loved all of them. The music especially.

One night she called me to her room and closed the door. She looked at me square in the face and said, "DON'T CHEER!" at which point I swore on my first born that I wouldn't!

She sat me down on her bed, positioned herself at her Little Tikes picnic table and began singing, "Always There" from "The Land Before Time V". (The video link is the best I could find)

I listened to my seven year old daughter sing the complete song to me. With every bit of restraint I had, I managed to make it through with little to no reaction as she had insisted. I hugged her ever so tightly, walked out of her room and bawled my eyes out.

58. The Watcher

Occasionally we let Sean play just outside the door on the side of our house. There was a sidewalk there too that went alongside the house. We could watch him from the double windows as he traipsed up and down the walkway. He liked to play with dirt there, and since there was an empty lot next to us, there was plenty of good old dusty Texas dirt.

One afternoon Sean was playing outside when I felt a sense of urgency. I didn't hear a noise or anything, it was just a feeling - not good, not bad. It was just a, "you'd better go see" sense.

I swung the door open and Sean stood up. He looked at me with a non-reactionary expression, but then I noticed his feet fidgeting. I also noticed his left fist was clenched shut, so I hurriedly pried it open. About ten or more fire ants scurried out. I began slapping them off of him and stomping the ground. He didn't make a sound. I pulled him inside to check his hands and body. Not a single bite!

Sean had apparently noticed the fine dirt of a small developing ant bed and began sifting it. I doubt he even noticed the ants. If he had been bitten, I doubt he would have reacted. I had to constantly be his reaction; therefore, I had to constantly observe. I learned the most when he wasn't looking.

"You can observe a lot just by watching."
~ Yogi Berra

57. Mr. Sandman

Sean played with sand a lot. He always swept it into his hand, then close his fist and release a little at a time while watching it fall. One day Savannah called us out to the driveway to show us Sean's Sandman. We were shocked and very impressed they he stopped stimming long enough to make an image. Sean was ultra proud of it too. 

56. The Gift

There is no major reason to mention that Savannah was one of two white girls in the predominately Hispanic classroom except to explain that she just didn't fit in that well. She didn't really pay attention to skin color anyway, but I was hoping no one else did either. As a matter of fact, I remember when she was in second grade she described her classmate as, "that girl with the dark skin". I remember thinking, that could be anyone in her class.

Being the over protective mom that I am, I was concerned that Savannah was being bullied even though she never indicated so. I knew that bullying could be a problem in any school, and I was afraid for my children.

One day Savannah came home with a book she got from the Scholastic Book Fair. I had given her money to get Sean one because she wanted to surprise him with a book, but she didn't come home with it. I asked her why and she said, "Elyse took it".

Hold me back!

The next morning I went to Savannah's classroom and explained that I wanted to speak with Elyse about taking Savannah's book. The teacher allowed me to do so. I walked over to darling Elyse who was sitting in her desk. I knelt down, so we were eye level with each other. I said,

"Hi Elyse. I'm Savannah's mom. Savannah bought a book for her brother yesterday at the book fair. She said she let you look at it, and that you didn't give it back. Do you have the book?"

"No."

"Do you know where it is?"

"No" (with a little bit of attitude)

The whole class was watching so I had to be cool. I calmly said:

"I see. Savannah, Elyse said she doesn't have the book, and she doesn't know where it is."

Savannah nodded while daggers were shooting out of my eyes. I said:

"I guess you'll have to get your little brother another book because the one you bought as a gift for him was taken by 'somebody'. Even though I believe you, we can't prove that Elyse took it because there are no witnesses. Okay, Honey?"

Savannah nodded.

I stood up to walk away when I saw Elyse lift her desktop. She pulled out the book that Savannah had bought for Sean. She handed it to me and I said, "Thank you, Elyse". I told Savannah goodbye and walked out.

I never mentioned it again.