I am ashamed.
It is quiet here. We don't get much quiet in our home, so we don't really know what to do with it. Kathy and Daniel sleep peacefully. Our animals roam the house searching for food or a warm shaft of sunlight to sleep in.
David is away at camp. A camp for kids with "Special Needs," and I am ashamed.
A married man should always listen to his wife, especially when they are in love; yet, I did not. Early on, Kathy said that something about David wasn't quite right. I should have listened, but I didn't. There is no reason to recount the laundry list of warning sings, the stupid "mileposts" missed, or lack of normalcy in David's life. For Kathy and I, it has been ten years of frustrations, profound sadness and loss of sleep.
Yes, I berated David when he was five years old. I actually yelled at him for not participating on his soccer team. Had I only listened to Kathy, I would have never put him, or her, through such misery.
I refused to believe that this handsome little boy could be anything but perfect. He was, after all, my first born son. I envisioned all the things Dad's want for their boys. Soccer in the fall, lacrosse in the spring. Terrifying us with feats of pure danger on a bike or skateboard. Maybe hockey. Maybe crew. In short, I wanted him to have all the advantages that a city kid (like me) did not. Friendships forged on fields of play. Late nights chasing fireflys. But this was not to be.
David plays in ways other kids don't. There are no sports. David protects our home from alien invaders (which could come in handy). David studies the nuances of battles fought long ago and applies his mind's lessons to the present day wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. David is lights years away, but constantly underfoot. He is lost in his own world, but dominates ours in a way that defies explanation.
Yet, David is loved. Make that adored. Kathy and I have turned our lives inside out for this boy. Our goal is that, when the time comes, he leaves our home ready to face the challenges of an unforgiving world. David is well on his way.
We are blessed to be able to send David to a fantastic school and a great summer camp. Both are for kids with "Special Needs."
There's an old saying on the streets of the city that goes something like this: "Don't hate the player. Hate the game." I love my boy, but I sure do hate "Special Needs."
Quo Fata Ferunt!
