perimeters

midst intersecting wires I watch him............
head bowed down,
he carefully places one foot in front of the other......
and walks the perimeter of the playground.............

children run around him, past him.......
breeze carries faint hints of shrill laughter.....
his silence visibly sits on his shoulders
as he walks the perimeters of his childhood............

life broken into step by step fragments
family stripped to it's very essence
raw from the complexities of mind, body, behavior
re-evaluating the perimeters, we walk.........

love challenges limitations, this I know...........
for every fear, every doubt, every worry,
deep in the folds of love hope grows.......
slowly revealing itself in each small connection.........

he puts his head back and breathes in the sun....
his eyes closed, his smile generous......
he takes his place on a single file line
and anxiously walks the perimeters of assimilation..........


midst the intersecting wires I watch him............
never quite able to sturdy my heart.......my son beautiful......
the battle between what is and what could be..........
walking on perimeters I need to dissolve

Mending Fences

When it rains it pours.....and when there are torrential winds added to the mix, there might be uprooted trees, broken fences and roof shingles scattered like autumn leaves across the lawn..............

Hard to believe, but this is what is left of the 6 foot fence Gabe scaled when he was just 3 years old. I was struggling to get Carlos out of the baby swing and in just a few minutes Gabe took off his clothes, scaled the fence and streaked through my neighbors yard.....and I hadn't even met them yet. I had to go, ring the bell, introduce myself and then ask if I could get my naked kid off their kid's swing...except he was on the slide....and we knew this because you can hear skin on plastic clearly, especially on a hot day......That summer I learned that Gabe had that Spiderman gene in him, he was quick and quiet, a combination that lead to double locks on doors and bars on his bedroom window........The neighbors moved a few months later.....It took us a few more years to get Gabe to keep his clothes on. You'd be surprised at just how many people feel inclined to comment when it's obvious there is an issue. At first I felt the need to explain, but after the first hundred times, I replaced "he has autism and sensory issues" with "if you got it flaunt it", "he's practicing for the Chippendales call back", "and for his next trick, he will pull a rabbit out of his ass"...... Gabe took the concept of back to basics to a whole new level......

But as I'm approaching my 43rd year, I'm thinking perhaps going back to basics for myself is not such a bad idea. There was a time when going back to basics was essential to get Gabe on track, and to help Will and Carlos along as well. There was a time when focusing on the essential was all I did. It occurs to me that as our needs change, what's essential shifts too....and if there is a shift that is not foreseen, the effects, like an earthquake, can be catatrosphic. I can't help but wonder are you ever really old enough to know better? I know when you know better you don't necessarily always do better, I am living proof.....but after thinking, at 42, I'm still so clueless, the thought that perhaps I might always be, has crossed my mind. Mr. Rogers said that we are every age we have ever been. There in all of us exists that 7 year old, that 16 year old, that 21 year old.....but somewhere after I had gotten that Autism diagnosis, I stopped being 35 and every number since then had been a blur, until I hit 40, and then the confusion about what that meant set in.

When I was first introduced into the Autism world there was so much talk about foundations, and the splinters found in between. What I have found is that I am no different. Never have been. As strong as I thought my foundation to be, there were always cracks...fear and doubt can do more damage than extreme heat or cold. The sensory processing issues that my son faces, the white noises, the delays in decifering what is said, the way he takes in his world visually, the way day to day life feels on his skin, is less foreign to me now. The turning point came when I realized that we may process things differently, but we all arrive at the same place, the place of deep love, fears, frustrations, joy, insecurities, wonder....the difference lies only in the way we manifest these feelings, and they subside when we are able to put aside preconcieved notions or expectations, and just recognize and embrace the expression .....While we manage to repair some cracks, there will always be a splinter emerging, because there is always a shift where there is growth, or neglect.

So as I sit and think about how exactly I will mend those fences and honor the boundaries it contains, I hear the wind picking up again, the tree branches brushing the sides of my home.
When Will was 4 years old he asked me who the sky belonged too...."if the sky that were on our property were ours, if it was shouldn't our fence be higher, and if the sky that was over the United States was American"....I was in trouble early on here.....So I told him the sky belonged to no one in particular, it belonged to all things living. We have no right to fence in the stars, the sunrise or the sunset, and it has no nationality. It has no limits. He then asked then why do we fence in the land. I wanted to tell him to go watch Sesame Street and let me recover a bit, but the thing about Will is that he is always searching, always trying to understand how things work, always thinking ahead.....and I love that about him....."I think we fence in land because we like to feel like we have a little place of our own", I tell him, proud that I kept it simple.....A year later when Gabe jumped the fence, as I was tucking Will in, he said to me " I think Gabe belongs more to the sky than to the earth Mommy"...."why do you say that?" I asked completely taken back....."Because you can't fence him in, he's like the stars"....Words matter....Children take what you tell them and it helps them make sense of thier world, it helps them define thier world, until they learn to see outside of thier world.......The purpose of our fences, the importance of our boundaries, the necessity of seeing beyond what we define as a limitation, and the recognition that the most precious things go beyond yours and mine, it's universal......some things are meant to be held on to, somethings are meant to let go, and somewhere between the 2, I have to find a way to just be...

So what is essential for me at almost 43? Well....for my next trick I'll pull a rabbit out of my............hat....Won't catch me scaling any fences naked....ouch.....splinters......foundations.....
I have a few months left to figure it out..................in the meantime, there are repairs to be made.....

March came in as a lion and left a sad surprise.....

Karate has been part of my sons lives now for the past 5 years. A young energetic sensei opened a school near by and my youngest was my first to join up. He was 5 years old, had Power Ranger aspirations. The way he smiled and bounced through that dojo he looked like Tigger in a gee....before I knew it, Gabe and Will were sporting the gee too........

Because the school was new, there was a certain sense that we were all starting this together. Parents would wait and watch through the glass doors. While the children praticed thier pinions, we went from exchanging pleasantries, to exchanging opinions....not to mention many jokes and a few cocktail recipes.....In the beginning I practically lived there, with 3 boys in 3 seperate classes, each going twice a week it was mayhem, now my children far more independent, I had been dropping them off and picking them up, barely ever finding the time to sit and watch and chat.

Well, today, as I walked into the school, the sensei came to me to let me know that one of the dad's that I most enjoyed talking to, passed away. He had a massive heart attack. His son found him. His wake was tonight, he told me where knowing I would want to attend. Here's the thing.......Mike's face would light up when he talked about his wife, his daughter, his son. This man wore the pride he felt for his son, for his family, like a king would wear a crown, or Jennifer Lopez would strut in Loubutins......He was what my people, the Cubans, would call "un buenaso", the Barbara Steisand Brooklyn translation would be he's "like butter"...basically a genuinely good guy....He wrote computer programs, but was laid off and ended up becoming a manager at Home Depot. His goal was to finish a program he was creating that he felt would revolutionalize the business world....how? He explained, but it was way over my technically challenged head.......
There are so many conversations I can immediately flip through, 5 years worth, to be exact.....but the one that stands out came when I turned 40 and started to talk about my midlife "reassessment"....and my absolute bewilderment as to where my time had gone....crazed I would say if "I paid attention to where I put it, then I won't have to wonder where it went"..he would laugh and say "if you paid attention your shirt wouldn't be inside out, your socks would match.....and you wouldn't have pencils sticking out of your head"....quickly followed by "stop being so hard on yourself, relax 40 turns into 50 sooner than you expect..Breathe, enjoy, with all that goes on, you have to let some go".......

Except he was only 45. Here I was wondering what I'll be when I grow up, what direction I need to take.......wanting so much to feel like I knew what I was doing....wanting to be respected for my artwork.....wanting to actually feel like I was good enough......and yet, my first thought for Mike was not if he got to finish his dream project, but of all the dreams he had that he would miss out on.....Watching his children grow, graduate, marry, become parents, all while holding his wife's hand.....I couldn't help but be completely heartbroken for his wife who was faced with the nightmare of having to nurture her children through thier grief, then have to walk into a bedroom suspended somewhere between what was and what remains. Those spaces inbetween.....

Tonight, as I waited on the recieving line, I looked at the collages set up....large framed images of his life overlapping one another....He went from his cradle, to cradling his own children in his arms....a lifetime of frozen moments....the most important moments in his life....and it was all about the people and the places that mattered to him..... I couldn't help but think that perhaps what defines me has more to do with who I love, how I love ,than I ever gave credit too....here I was struggling to find myself again, complaining how easy it is to lose yourself to the demands of motherhood, matrimony, and life in general....when easily I am found in them all....wanting to be respected for my art, wanting to be at a place where I felt completely confident, dreams of a legacy left on museum walls (delusions of granduer), suddenly doesn't feel as important as sitting down to the dinner table as a complete family, or watching my kids ride ahead on thier bikes as I trail behind with Reeses.....going to a concert, or to a stepping up ceremony.....to a graduation..... watching them jump into thier pool.....being present to help my sons transition from boys to men....holding my husband's hand........"breathe...relax.....enjoy".....

Still I think of those glass doors, and the lessons learned on both sides................
and my heart breaks for my karate friend................