I’ve never written this story before because it is hard. But like I said, it’s time to start telling more of the hard stories. I want be able to tell it all at once. I’m not sure how many posts it will take.
It was October 5, 2010. It was a Tuesday. I was about seven months pregnant, and my Grandpa had been dead for three days. That Saturday night, I had to call my cousin Mackenzie and tell her that Grandpa had died. Mackenzie had come with her toddler from North Carolina and had been at my grandparents’ house all day. Grandpa had been failing for a few weeks but he was…he was ok that day. He was joyful at meeting Mackenzie’s daughter, Molly, for the first time. Mackenzie fully expected to see him again the next day.
Mackenzie and Molly came to my house for dinner. We had an awesome time. Then they went back to their hotel. By the time they got there, our Grandpa had died of a massive heart attack in his bathroom. My mom called me. Grandma can’t get the bathroom door open. Rescue squad on the way. She calls again. Grandpa passed away. Can I call Mackenzie?
“Hi cousin, what’s up?” she must think it’s weird that I’m calling so soon after she left my house. Have you ever had to make that call before? I didn’t know what to say. I pause, struggling. “Grandpa died.” It’s all I could say. I think I blurted out the few details about the bathroom and the rescue squad.
I can’t remember what she said back. Or much else about that night. I know Mackenzie packed up her toddler and went back over to my Grandma’s house. Just Grandma’s house now.
But back to Tuesday.
I am dropping Sophie off at preschool, and one of her teachers says to me, “I wonder if you had a few minutes to talk.” I don’t want to talk, but what can you do? She leads me into another room. I am too tired and drained to even wonder what this is about. My Grandpa’s funeral is the next day.
“We have some concerns about Sophia.” she says. I sigh internally. “Ok.” I say. She starts to read from a list.
“She can’t follow simple instructions.” Yes she can, I think. But I let her go on. “She just stands there when I tell her to wash her hands. I have to help her do everything.”
“Ok, well, I don’t know why. She washes her hands at home.”
She goes on.
She isn’t interested in the other kids. She won’t do any of the crafts, she just sits there. She doesn’t really play with toys, she just wanders around the room.
I’m not overly surprised by some of these things, what I’m surprised at is that SHE’s surprised. I told her teachers before preschool started, when we’d visited the class, that she had a speech delay, was in therapy, and I gave them a list of things about her that I wanted them to know. Some of these things were on the list.
On the other hand, I am concerned that she is not engaging more with the others. This isn’t something I’d expected. And the thing about doing the crafts and the work, well I’d never been able to get her to do any of that at home, and I was hoping she’d just fall in line at school. But apparently she wasn’t going to. Her teacher said she seemed to hardly be able to hold a crayon, that she had no idea what to do with scissors. Questions raced through my mind. Was it that she couldn’t because she wouldn’t or that she wouldn’t because she couldn’t?
I left the room upset and barely holding it together, but trying not to show it. I had already been crying for days. I took the list of concerns the teacher gave me. The next day Sophie had speech therapy, but I couldn’t be there because I’d be AT MY GRANDPA’S FUNERAL. This was the LAST thing I needed that Tuesday.
I can’t really remember what I did next. I called my husband and my mom and read the list of concerns and probably cried a lot. I was very confused. Sophie had never been a “joiner” and I felt like it was going to take her a long while to adjust to preschool. She’d only even been to seven classes at this point. Was it just that she was going to be a slow adjuster? Or did she have more problems than just her speech delay? Her speech therapist had just recently finished testing her and we didn’t even have the results yet.
I tell you what, it is hard when you sit across a table from someone and they tell you something about your kid that you don’t want to hear. Especially when you are already an emotional mess.
Tuesday was rough. I did not enjoy Tuesday. But I decided to deal with Tuesday on Thursday. Because Wednesday, we had to bury my Grandpa.
To be continued.
Part 2 of this story is here.
I am so proud of you for talking about all of this, so proud.
Mack as I was laying in bed this morning, I was like, oh crap. It would’ve been nice of me to give Mackenzie a heads up about this. Sorry cuz.
No worries cousin. Like I said, just proud of you! I also miss Grandpa so much.
Excellent!
UP
What a rough period. I’m sorry you had so much thrown at you at once — life can be just like that, can’t it? I know it’s a hard story to tell, and I hope your next part has at least a glimmer of hope. 🙂
It is so hard being a parent. I feel for you in this post. Proud of you for sharing. You will help others.
Hugs. This musta been hard to write…
I always say when it rains it pours. I would rather drown all at one time so I can enjoy the rest of life. I am so sorry that it all hit you at one time. I am so proud of you for sharing this. There are thousands of parents struggling with this at this exact moment. I hope this helps them…
I can’t even imagine how tough those few days must have been. I’m glad you’re sharing your story. Thanks.
I can feel you too in a way. On one hand, my grandpa died the day before Christmas Eve, which was also 8 days before our wedding. We had his funeral 2 days before the wedding. I also had finals just before that so I was an emotional mess. I cried way more than usual.
On the other hand, I have a feeling that your story is going to be similar to my son’s. He’s just a couple of months younger than your Sophie. When he had his 3 year check up, I told the doctor I was concerned about his speech/language delays. He had many of the same issues as your daughter. Fast forward almost two years later and we have an official diagnosis of Asperger’s Syndrome. That was just 2 months ago. I’m still undecided if I will start blogging about this journey. I think I probably will.
Your story will certainly be your own. I don’t know what you’re about to tell, but thank you for being open about your life and Sophie’s. It’s very encouraging. I need to go back through your speech therapy posts soon. I’ve just been so caught up in putting together an IEP for Alistair and trying to figure out what school he can get into for Kindergarten. There’s still so much more I need to look into. It’s very overwhelming. I look forward to your next post.
Oh hon, that’s horrible. Waiting for the rest of the story…
You made me really miss dad today. I am so glad I know some of the story to come. That is a beautiful picture of Sophie.
What courage you inspire me to have! Thank you for your vulnerability. It is so valuable to all of us moms and writers…we can only be ourselves and know that it is enough. I’d like to send you a BIG virtual hug. Well done. xo, alexis
you are so brave and strong. such a hard topic to discuss but even harder to face and deal with — in the yes interest of our kids.
kudos!
This story will encourage others to face their child’s problems head on. Time is of the essence and denial helps no one. There can be happy endings.
I am sorry for the loss of your Grandpa. It’s not easy. I lost my Dad 11yrs ago & my kids never got to meet him. About your girls speech, my son did not talk either at first & he had speech therapy. Now, thankfully he’s in first grade & adjusting. There are days where the teacher tells me he didnt participate or wasn’t listening. Everyone has their good days & their bad days. Your daughter will adjust. Try doing some crafts with her & maybe have another girl come & play. Again, my condolences. Take care & thank for sharing your first Tuesday. God Bless.
I read this post with a lump in my throat. In June, my grandpa will have been gone for a year. He would have been 77 and married to my grandmother for 54 years on May 10. I have been thinking about doing a blog post in June, but like you said, some things are so hard to talk about. I rarely speak out loud about him because I fear I will lose it (and I’m the kind of girl that always keeps it together, or so it seems to the world). Thank you for this post… maybe I will have some of the same courage you displayed today writing your post.
I am so sorry. I can’t imagine how hard that was for you, hearing about your child. But I do know what that overload is like. My mom died suddenly the day my second son was born. My sister in law was about to give birth in 2 weeks and were all a mess. Having to deal with the funeral, and calls and Bris. It was all to much. It was all too much and I remember so little of that time period because of it.
It’s so hard to write a comment on this post, that I can only imagine how hard it was for you to write it (and I bet I’m still far, far away from reality).
I’m not sure whether I should complement you on the post, on your courage and your strength… Or if I should just speak my sorrow, sympathy and friendship to help you with your grief (I know there’s no help at all, but that’s all we can do, right?).
I wish it wasn’t like this. I wish it was different. I wish I could make it better. And I’m so sorry that I can’t
Thanks everyone for all your awesome comments. I know a lot of you are new to this blog because of this post, so you don’t already know (as my regular readers do) that the story gets better. I hope you’ll stick around for the next couple installments!
As a mom of an Aspbergers son, I so get your emotions here! Can’t wait to hear more!