I dream of a time when we don’t have to worry about him as much as we do. Granted as a parent, part of us will always worry about our kids, but when you have a child like David, it is increased ten fold, a hundred fold. Today he came home from the mental health unit. We didn’t even get out of the hospital before he was starting with behavior. Playing with the elevator, not listening, moving things around that were on a shelf. You know, child like behavior, and in some cases behavior of typical teen. I get it, I do. But considering where we had just come from, one would think that he would be on his very best behavior. I made a quick stop to pick up a part, and instructed him to not touch anything while I was in the store. Came out to find he
I cried today. I cried while mowing my lawn. Mowing gives you time to think. The drone of the mower is perfect for masking thoughts, for allowing them a fertile breeding ground. I cried for David. For the little boy who wants so desperately to be loved, yet pushes away and punishes those who love him most, his family. I cried for the hope that is diminishing a little each day. A hope that he will see that what he is doing is wrong, and the way he treats people is wrong. I cried out in prayer. Something that I do everyday. Pray. Does God hear my prayers? I believe that he does. I believe that David was brought into our lives for a reason. Ours is not to question why. Yet we struggle daily with his behaviors, his attitude, the words he says, the things he does. We struggle.
This has been something of a roller coaster week. I was in Indianapolis for the National Disability Rights Network annual conference. Some fantastic networking opportunities. A lot of great information, fabulous food and weather. At home, David was busy doing what David does. At the top of the list? He forged a check. He was charged with unruly behaviors and taken to safe bed. So now I need to determine what further charges should be contemplated. Do I press charges for forging a check on my account? Today, I brought him home from the safe bed. For the most part he has been good. I have allowed him zero freedoms. I hate doing that, but he needs to know that actions have consequences. To quote him, “safe bed is a worse place than here, and they let me go outside. So how come I can’t go outside.” then he says