A Mother's Work

Last week when I went to vote in the primary elections, a friendly woman who regularly works the polls greeted me by name. The mother of one of my high school classmates, she has known me since I was a teenager. One of the first questions she asked me was whether I was still teaching at the middle school, and I told her that I had retired from teaching. Her next question, which other people have also asked me after finding out I retired early, was, “What are you doing now?” I suppose many people my age would use early retirement as an opportunity to find a second career, engage in volunteer work, and/or travel the world. However, I answered her honestly, explaining that I am taking care of my adult son with autism. Essentially, I retired from teaching part-time to becoming a full-time personal assistant to Alex and Ed. Frankly, I have no idea how I ever had time to teach and am thankful I could retire early.

In one of my favorite episodes of the television show Little House on the Prairie, Laura expresses disappointment to Ma that getting married means she won’t be able to become a teacher. Her mother, who had also been a teacher, reassures her that as a mother, she will play a variety of roles, including being a cook, a nurse, and most of all, a teacher, to her children. Certainly, of the many jobs I perform in my role as Alex’s mom, teaching has been one of the most fulfilling. Since we opted to home school him throughout his school years, we have been responsible not only for teaching him practical life skills but also academics, as well. Based upon his keen knowledge in a broad range of subjects and his love of learning, apparently Ed and I did a fairly respectable job as Alex’s teachers.

In addition to teaching Alex, I continue to carry out a variety of responsibilities as his mother. Even though he’s legally an adult, in many ways he is childlike because of the obstacles autism presents. His difficulties with language require that we often must speak for him, and his fine motor delays, coupled with hand tremors caused by anti-anxiety medications, hinder his ability to do many things independently. Nonetheless, I’m fortunate to have more time to do things for him and grateful that he’s generally quite cooperative in working with me to accomplish what we need to do on a daily basis. However, before I became his mother, I never realized all the things that mothers, especially special needs mothers, do for their children. Here is a list of some of my many roles as Alex’s mom:

1. Finder of Lost Objects––Alex misplaces something nearly every day, usually his iPad or pens for making lists. However, he’s quite predictable in where he leaves them, which makes my job fairly simple. In fact, I can usually lift a couch cushion and find a treasure trove of Bic pens that have fallen between the cushions where Alex was sitting. The most amusing task he gives me at least twice daily is, “Need to find Daddy.” Fortunately, Ed is quite predictable, too, and can generally be found in the family room downstairs.

2.  Scheduler––In this role, I am responsible for making sure that appointments with doctors, the dentist, and therapists are made regularly, and I keep track of the Chicago Cubs baseball schedule as well as the NASCAR schedule for Alex. I must always know whom the Cubs are playing, where the NASCAR race is that week, what time the game/race is on television, and what channel will be broadcasting the game/race. Over the years, I have discovered that Alex is like a good lawyer: he never asks a question he cannot answer himself. If I make a mistake in the information I give him, he will call me on it. Hence, I double check my information to ensure my credibility as his sports information source. In addition, I am also responsible for making sure that calendars and clocks are accurate, which is very important to Alex (probably so that he won’t miss a minute of a baseball game or NASCAR race). If the house timekeepers are not precise, Alex will let me know that we need to change them immediately.

3.  Health Management––This is a job Ed and I share, as we take turns being Alex’s pharmacist in administering his medications and acting as his personal dental hygienist. However, we do our tasks differently. For example, Ed counts Alex’s pills as he gives them, whereas I recite their names. Also, Ed makes brushing teeth into a fun game show activity, whereas I count off the number of seconds he’s brushed as his electric toothbrush beeps every thirty seconds. Despite our different methods, both of us are grateful that Alex is not only cooperative about these important tasks, but he also faithfully reminds us when it’s time to take his pills or brush his teeth.

4.  Personal Groomer––Another one of my roles is to make sure that Alex is clean and neat so that he makes a nice appearance. As his barber, I cut his hair and shave his face, and as his hairdresser, I shampoo, blow dry, and comb his hair. Fortunately, he likes being groomed, so he sits eerily still, almost mesmerized, as I do his hair. In addition, I give him manicures and pedicures, put lip balm on him several times a day at his request, make sure he uses deodorant every day, as well as finding and cleaning his eyeglasses throughout the day. Moreover, I’m also his laundress and valet who makes certain his clothes are clean and assists him with selecting and putting on those clean clothes daily.

5.  Personal Shopper––Since Alex can’t drive (a fact he reminds us whenever he’s upset about his lack of independence as an adult), he relies upon Ed and me to chauffeur him wherever he needs to go. However, he prefers to leave shopping to me, so I’m responsible for making sure that he never runs out of orange juice, note pads, and Epsom salt, among other things. While milk, eggs, and bread are snowstorm staples for most homes, orange juice, note pads, and Epsom salts are must haves at our house.

6.  Speech Therapist––Language doesn’t come easily for Alex, so we constantly encourage him to talk to us. Often, he uses pat (or perhaps pet) phrases that we enthusiastically reinforce. For example, we heartily agree when he reminds us several times a day that he “had a young voice in 1994” or that “It gets hot in Phoenix.” Also, I have to assure him repeatedly that I’m not the lady wearing the blue dress in the Claritin commercial, even though we look somewhat similar. Honestly, I’d like to be as young and slender as she is, and I like that he thinks she looks like me. Besides trying to develop conversations skills, we also work on his manners, constantly reminding him to use the magic words of “please, thank you, and you’re welcome.” Lately, if Alex really wants something, he will make sure we’re eager to serve him by telling us all three, “Please, thank you, and you’re welcome,” before even making the request. Clearly, he’s learning the power of being polite.

7.  Food Services­­––Even though Alex’s appetite is not what it used to be, making sure that he eats a healthy diet daily within the parameters of his gluten-free and dairy-free restrictions is crucial. Consequently, I act as his cook and waitress throughout the day. Since he wants to know the menu, I also announce the daily specials as a maître d would, even though he wants to eat the same things every day. Because his hand tremors make eating some foods nearly impossible, I must also literally spoon feed him to make sure he eats enough. In addition, he likes to be part of the food preparation process, so I give him jobs to do as my sous chef and have him set the table and help clean up afterwards, which he enjoys doing.

8. Developer of Faith––Of all my jobs as Alex’s mom, helping him develop his faith is my most fulfilling and important. Seeing Alex’s faith and trust in God grow over the years has been gratifying because I know that faith will help him deal with all he will need to cope with in life. At the end of every day, the reward for completing my various tasks as Alex’s personal assistant is the opportunity to say bedtime prayers with him. As we thank God together for all of His goodness and ask Him to bless those we love, I’m awed by the peacefulness and sweetness of the moment and grateful for Alex’s childlike faith that gives him a sense of security before he falls asleep. As a mother, I’m immensely thankful I have been able to share with Alex the same faith my mother instilled in me so that he, too, can face the future with hope, confident that God loves him even more than I do. On Mother’s Day and every day, I can think of no greater gift.

“And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue His work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.” Philippians 1:6

If Not For You

 

“If not for you

Winter would have no spring

Couldn’t hear a robin sing

I just wouldn’t have a clue

Anyway it wouldn’t ring true

If not for you.” ~Bob Dylan, “If Not For You”

Dear Alex,

If not for you, I wouldn’t have fulfilled my lifelong dream to be a mom. Thanks for letting me be yours.

If not for you, I wouldn’t be a NASCAR fan. Thanks for sharing one of your favorite sports with me so that I could enjoy it as much as you do.

If not for you, I wouldn’t have learned to wait patiently. Thanks for teaching me that good things, indeed, come to those who wait.

If not for you, I wouldn’t know the ABC Chicago meteorologists on a first-name basis. Thanks for making me as enthusiastic as you are about watching the weather reports on television.

If not for you, I wouldn’t be assertive when I need to be. Thanks for giving me reasons to stand up for what is right, making sure you get what you need in life.

If not for you, I wouldn’t know who, when, or where the Chicago Cubs are playing on a daily basis. Thanks for including me in one of your favorite pastimes so that we can cheer on our team together.

If not for you, I wouldn’t have had met the wonderful people who comprise your support team. Thanks for allowing your friends to be my friends, too.

If not for you, I wouldn’t truly appreciate the value of numbers and patterns in time, dates, addresses, and pi. Thanks for helping me overcome my dislike of math, something you adore.

If not for you, I wouldn’t have seen an endearing side in your daddy as he speaks sweetly and gently to you, makes sound effects to entertain you, and talks about you with such loving pride. Thanks for showing me what makes me love him best: his love for you.

If not for you, I wouldn’t pay much attention to the stock market or gas prices. Thanks for keeping me apprised of the daily trends you find so fascinating and making sure that I always go to the gas station with the lowest prices and keeping me honest by having me give you my receipts.

If not for you, I wouldn’t have known the value of a smile. Thank you for warming people’s hearts with your sweet smile that endears you to those who see the pure heart behind those cute dimples and twinkling eyes.

If not for you, I wouldn’t have become familiar with the expressions you have created in your clever mind. Thanks to you, I know what “bad imagine clothes” and “scroungy voices” are and why they must be avoided at all costs.

If not for you, I wouldn’t have realized that the only thing better than reading a good book is to read it aloud to someone you love. Thanks for appreciating books as much as I do and for indulging me in reading to you when you were able to read on your own.

If not for you, I wouldn’t have comprehended how much trivia I have stored in my brain in my lifetime. Thanks for insisting that we watch Jeopardy every afternoon so that we can beat most contestants by combining our acquired knowledge.

If not for you, I wouldn’t know the depth of God’s love, grace, and faithfulness. Thanks for your steadfast faith that reminds me to trust that everything has a reason and that God will always take care of us. I have no doubt that He gave you to me to teach me the most important lessons I needed to learn in life, which makes you my greatest blessing.

Love always,

Mommy

“Children are a gift from the Lord; they are a reward from Him.” Psalm 127:3

Blessings of Motherhood

 

“…While Earth herself is adorning,

This sweet May-morning,

And the children are culling

On every side,

In a thousand valleys far and wide,

Fresh flowers; while the sun shines warm,

And the babe leaps up on his mother’s arm:––

I hear, I hear, with joy I hear!”

William Wordsworth, “Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood”

Yesterday, as an early Mother’s Day gift, Ed brought me a beautiful bouquet of a dozen delicate pink roses from Alex and him. As I began to unwrap the protective covering surrounding the flowers, Ed noticed that one had been bent and snapped off its long stem. When I began to place them in a vase, their leaves fell off, and I found a stem without a rose. Disappointed that the roses were not as perfect as they had appeared, Ed sighed and apologized. However, I was delighted with my ten and a half leafless roses. Not only am I blessed to be Alex’s mother, but I am also blessed to have a loving and thoughtful husband who makes every holiday special. Besides, as I explained to him, those ten and a half roses symbolize our life with autism­­––not what we expected, but special and sweet nonetheless.

For all the sessions of various therapies, I’m thankful for the progress Alex has made.

For all the different pills I’ve administered, I’m grateful that Alex is better.

For all the questions I’ve had, I’m indebted to those who have answered them.

For all the times I have waited, I’m pleased that the waiting was worthwhile.

For all the worries and tears and fears, I’m appreciative of the joys Alex has brought me.

For all the prayers I have prayed, I’m content that God has always been faithful.

Twenty-four years ago, when I first discovered that I was going to be a mother for the first time and that I was carrying Alex, who was to be my only child, I had no idea what life had in store for us. After two dozen Mother’s Days, I can look back over all the troubles and triumphs and know how blessed I am to have Alex as my child.

When I update Alex's therapists on his progress, I’m thankful for our awesome support team.

When we do typical family things like going shopping or eating at restaurants or watching television, I’m grateful that we can enjoy these times together because Alex is better.

When Alex asks me countless questions, I’m indebted to Google for having answers when I do not.

When I tell Alex I’ll do something in five minutes and he sets the kitchen timer, I’m pleased that he makes me keep my promises.

When Alex takes my hand in a crowded place, I’m appreciative that he trusts me to guide him.

When Alex and I say bedtime prayers every night, I’m content that I have taught him always to have faith in God.

Happy Mother’s Day to my wonderful mother, who taught me all the things I needed to be Alex’s mother, to my sister and my sisters by marriage, to my aunts and cousins, to my dear friends, and to the autism moms like me. May God bless our children and us!

“So give your father and mother joy! May she who gave you birth be happy.” Proverbs 23:25

Dear Alex

“Well, I’ve been afraid of changing ‘cause I’ve built my life around you. But time makes you bolder, even children get older, and I’m getting older, too.”—Stevie Nicks, “Landslide”

Dear Alex,

Twenty-three years ago, just before Mother’s Day, I found out that you would be coming into the world in the not-too-distant future. Well, I didn’t really know that it was you, but on an early spring morning, a home pregnancy test confirmed that my nearly lifelong dream to be a mom was coming true. In those months as you grew in my womb, I imagined the person you would be and thought of all the things I would teach you. In those blissfully naïve dreams, I never stopped to think that autism would be part of our lives.

In the early days, as you hit your developmental milestones on time, we reveled in your achievements and found those few quirks of yours amusing. Sure, you seemed more interested in books than toys, but we were certain that was because you were smarter than most kids your age. While I thought we would have to teach you to love books, you seemed to have inherited that interest from us as you preferred to pull our books off the shelves, studying them intently, to looking at your own picture books. Nonetheless, you sat patiently and happily as I read you Dr. Seuss and Little Golden Books and children’s poetry and fairy tales. Soon we were to discover that we didn’t need to teach you the written words because you had already figured out how to decipher them yourself, an amazing feat for a three-year-old. Once again, you had proven to us how clever you were, and we were pleased that you had discovered the joy of reading.

While you didn’t say much, you always seemed to be observing the world and taking in every small detail. After we were told you had autism, we had an explanation for some of the things you did and didn’t do, such as getting upset when the vacuum cleaner was turned on or why you didn’t point to things, but that label didn’t really change who you were, an easygoing obedient child. Basically, you were the happiest kid I had ever met in my life, and we were going to do everything we could to make sure you stayed that way.

When we decided to home school you, we wanted to provide you with an education that would help you succeed, and we thought that teaching you one-on-one was the best way to do that. Also, we wanted to protect you from teachers who wouldn’t try to understand you and from kids who would be mean to you. What we didn’t realize was how much you would teach us. While we taught you the traditional studies of math, science, social studies, and English, we also shared our interests in music, cooking, and sports, hoping to make you well-rounded. Most importantly, we wanted you to learn faith and kindness, and you took to these lessons well, making us proud. Despite frustrations that your fine motor delays made things “too hard for little hands,” as you’d tell us, you kept plugging away. Even though I like to think you inherited that tenacity from me, I’ve come to realize that you possess even greater determination, and that inspires me to keep going when I think I cannot.

Because you’ve shared your interests and the research you’ve gathered from books and the internet, I’ve learned about the stock market, NASCAR, astronomy, meteorology, and pi, none of which I would have cared much about, had it not been for the enthusiasm you have conveyed. When you talk about these beloved topics, your eyes light up, your face breaks into a smile that reveals those irresistible dimples, and you draw us into the sheer delight you feel. Sometimes you can barely contain your enthusiasm, and you don’t just walk away after the conversation; you “happy hop” away, a combination of skipping and galloping that shows that you’re still that happy little boy inside a young man’s body.

When you and I walk together in public places, I’m reminded that you are fully grown as you tower over me, but sometimes you slip into little boy mode as you reach for my hand. I’m never sure whether this is because you need reassurance that I’m there for you or that you are reassuring me that you are there for me. One of the good things about the way our life has gone is that you don’t seem to mind that you have led a sheltered life because you have needed protection from the world. You’ve never wasted time worrying about other people’s opinions of you, and your life has been more content for that. However, nothing makes us prouder than when people tell us that you have nice manners or are so sweet or have a great laugh or are very smart. Even though we know all these things, we always appreciate when someone else notices and tells us. You, on the other hand, just go on your merry way, not caring what anyone thinks of you.

Now that you are a young adult, we hope that we have taught you most of the things you will need in life, but we realize that we must help you to become more independent. While it’s easier for us to do things for you, we want you to be able to do things on your own. If we stand back and let you struggle, know that we believe you can do it yourself, and we’ll be right behind you cheering you on and lending a hand when you need it. As I have been your teacher, you have been mine, too—in fact, you have been the greatest teacher in my life. You have helped me develop my weakest quality—patience, taught me the value of hope, strengthened my faith, and made me love more deeply than I thought was possible. From the challenges that tested me and your childlike trust and innocence, I have become better, stronger, and happier, thanks to you. What mother could ask any more of her child? Thank you, my precious boy, for the gift you truly are.

Love always,

Mommy

“Yes, You have been with me from birth; from my mother’s womb You have cared for me. No wonder I am always praising You!” Psalm 71:6

Ten Ways to Recognize an Autism Mom

This week I read an amusing blog entry on The Stir entitled “10 Ways Anyone Can Tell You’re a Mom” [To access this article, click here.] in which the author gave examples such as wearing a Disney bandage or carrying extra Kleenexes. While moms of typical kids give off various signs that reveal their maternal nature, I suspect that parents of kids with autism can spot each other almost intuitively, even when we aren’t with our children. On Saturday, I was standing in the grocery checkout lane buying Alex’s specialty foods, including gluten-free pasta and Betty Crocker gluten-free cake mix, both of which he’s been eating in great quantities lately. The man behind me commented that he admired people who could stick to the gluten-free diet and commented that he had read that the gluten-free diet was helpful to children with autism. Moreover, he told me that his son has Asperger’s syndrome, an autism spectrum disorder. I then explained that my son has autism, and he has been gluten-free and dairy-free for several years. In the brief time that we waited in line, we shared information about our sons, bonded by this strange phenomenon of autism, and listened with empathy because both of us understood how autism has impacted our families’ lives.

With my recent grocery line autism parent experience and The Stir article in mind, I decided to share my own list: Ten Ways Anyone Can Tell You’re an Autism Mom. [For those who are not autism moms, I have provided explanations in brackets so that you, too, can be in the know about the world of raising a child with autism.]

10. You know every trick, gadget, book, and video on potty training a child because in the several years you spent training your child with autism, you tried every single one.

9. You can not only say and spell methylcobalamin, but you also what it is [methyl vitamin B-12], how it helps children with autism [repairs nerve damage and helps the body’s detoxification system], and can even give your child an injection of it on a regular basis.

8. When another parent begins talking about his or her child’s stims [self-stimulatory behaviors used for calming, such as rocking, hand flapping, or repeating words and phrases over and over], you nod your head because you have seen your child do the exact same thing.

7. You know what the GFCF [gluten-free and casein-free/dairy-free] diet is, can easily list foods that are acceptable on this restricted diet, and have learned to bake without wheat flour and milk.

6. You can name all of the characters in the Thomas the Tank Engine series from watching the show repeatedly with your child and/or watching him line up his own set of Thomas and friends trains for hours at a time.

5. You talk about Temple Grandin and Bernard Rimland [autism experts] as though they are close family friends. In many ways, they are.

4. You talk about the autism moms you met online as though they are close family friends. Without a doubt, they are.

3. Your house has at least three chewies made of thera-tubing [a rubber tube used like a teething toy to satisfy oral sensory needs], and although they are disgusting with drool on them, you know they’re an improvement from your child chewing on his/her clothes or anything else he/she can put in his/her mouth.

2. You have watched far too many episodes of Wheel of Fortune with your child, who can nearly always solve the puzzle way before you can.

1. You know the meanings of all the following acronyms: OT [occupational therapist], IEP [individualized education plan used for special education], ABA [applied behavioral analysis--a therapy program used with some children who have autism], SLP [speech and language pathologist], and ASD [autism spectrum disorder]. Moreover, you use these abbreviations on a regular basis with fellow autism moms who know exactly what you mean.

“I will comfort you there in Jerusalem as a mother comforts her child.” Isaiah 66:13

Mothering

The other day, I had an interesting conversation with two good friends about how mothers enable their sons instead of asking them to step up and do their part around the house. One friend told about how both of his grown children, who are thoughtful, responsible, and capable adults, were visiting over the weekend but seemed oblivious to the messes they left around the house where they had grown up. My other friend then told about how her husband, who is also quite responsible and capable, leaves messes around the house when they go to visit his parents in the home where he was raised. She commented that his mother never seems to mind picking up after her grown children, which my friend finds unbelievable. Since my friend doesn’t want her mother-in-law to have to pick up after her guests, she comes behind her husband cleaning up his messes, which reinforces his belief that he doesn’t need to pick up after himself because someone else will do it for him.

Because the only child I have raised has autism, I tend to assume that any of his annoying habits are related to the autism, rather than just being typical behavior. When I hear about other people’s children exhibiting similar traits, I find strange comfort in the camaraderie. I know that through the years I have babied Alex in some ways for various reasons. Sometimes I have felt sorry for him because he struggles with issues typical children do not, such as socialization, language, fine motor skills, and sensory issues. I can still remember him as a little boy pleading for me to help him, saying, “It’s too hard for little hands.” How could I resist that kind of earnest logic? Other times, I have not wanted to risk his wrath when he was in an unpredictable mood. Specifically, I’d rather pick up his belongings than potentially have him hurl them at me in anger for telling him to clean up his mess. Often, my need to have things done the way I want them done and when I want them done has led me to do things for Alex instead of insisting that he do them himself. My need for organization has at times made me guilty of being an enabler for Alex when I should have pushed him harder to take on tasks around the house. Not only would he gain a sense of accomplishment from doing things for himself, but he would also learn to be more independent. This self-sufficiency is something we need to encourage him to achieve so that he can do more things for himself.

In training Alex to be less dependent, Ed is much better at teaching him than I am. As Ed has pointed out to me, I tend to ask Alex to do things, such as, “Could you please pick up your dirty socks off the bathroom floor?” instead of just telling him to do things. In other words, I’m much more likely to give requests than commands when I want something done. Ed notes that I probably get this from watching the game show Jeopardy, where every answer must be posed in the form of a question. (I just like to think that I have nicer Midwestern manners than my New Yorker husband.) By contrast, Ed tells Alex directly to do things: “Go get your sunglasses” or “Go take a bath.” His system of communication works much better than mine because Alex never ignores him, as he does me at times, and he immediately complies with whatever directive Ed gives him. Since Alex has lately viewed Ed as the favored parent, I’m hoping that he’ll learn to do more tasks with Ed’s guidance. In the meantime, I must let go of my need to take care of things for him and remind myself that Alex, who towers over me at nearly six feet, will turn twenty in two months. The next time he wants my help, I think I have the perfect excuse to get him to do it himself: “ You’re bigger than I am, and it’s too hard for little hands.”

“My child, listen when your father corrects you. Don’t neglect your mother’s instructions.” Proverbs 1:8

Motherhood

All I ever wanted to be in life was a mother. In choosing my career, I only considered those jobs that I felt were closest to mothering and that involved nurturing and caring for children—nursing and teaching. In addition, I wanted a job that would allow me to be home as much as possible so that I could be the kind of mom I wanted to be. While I had no idea that I would eventually become an autism mom, I was dedicated to the idea of being a devoted parent long before I ever had Alex. Thankfully, the job I chose permitted me to be home with Alex a great deal of the time as I was blessed with a part-time teaching schedule after he was born. Moreover, Ed’s position as a college professor enables him to have a schedule that balances mine so that at least one of us can be home with Alex at all times. With his special needs, this rare schedule has been ideal, and I am thankful that not only I have been able to be an at-home mom most of the time, but also that Ed takes such wonderful care of Alex when I’m not home.

On this Mother’s Day, we honor the women who took care of our physical, emotional, and spiritual needs throughout our lives. While mothers often take on many thankless tasks because their children don’t always recognize the effort and worry behind them, they make sacrifices purely out of the unconditional love they have for their children. For the moms of children with special needs, the added responsibilities can be overwhelming, yet they strengthen the bond between mother and child because, as my own mother has said, taking care of a child makes you love that child more. When potty training takes long beyond the typical time, when we take our children to countless therapies hoping to improve their skills, and when we celebrate the smallest milestones because we know how big they really are, we moms of special needs children know that we do these things not out of obligation but with a deep love, which blesses us and keeps us going. When well-meaning people who have typical children tell us, “God never gives you more than you can handle,” we smile and say nothing, knowing that this comment is intended as a compliment. However, as one of my closest friends who has an adult special needs child and I can attest, throughout the years we’ve sometimes questioned God, asking, “Lord, do you know what you’re doing? You’re overestimating me, I think!” Nonetheless, despite what we may lack in courage and wisdom, He somehow grants us the perseverance and strength to move forward when we have no clue what we’re doing. Often when the fears and frustration have reached a peak, our children have breakthroughs that reassure us that while progress is not always steady, it is always possible.

In the more than nineteen years that I have been Alex’s mother, I have learned the most important lessons in life: hope, faith, and love. Taking care of him has brought me the greatest joys and the greatest tests, but everything has shaped my life for the better. I know, however, that I would not have been equipped to be his mom, had it not been for the outstanding example I was blessed to have in my mom. Besides her devotion, love, compassion, understanding, and wisdom, she has been a woman of faith who has taught me to trust in God at all times, but especially when times were uncertain. Not only has she taken care of me through the years, supporting and encouraging me, but she also has always been my closest friend who knew what I was thinking and said what I needed to hear. As Alex’s grandmother, she has found ways to interact with him on his terms in ways that he finds comfortable, and when he is asked to name a friend, he always names her: “Nanny.” As much as I needed my mom when I was a child, I realize that her calming presence, sense of humor, and good advice have been even more valuable as I have gotten older. Therefore, I find great truth in the words written on a plaque I gave her several years ago: “Long life to her because there’s no other who can take the place of my dear mother!” Today and every day, I thank God for my son and my mom for blessing my life so richly.

“So give your father and mother joy! May she who gave you birth be happy.” Proverbs 23:25