This past weekend, for the first time in sixteen years, our house was quiet. Not just for a few hours while our Fragile X son was involved in school or a special rec program or outing, but quiet from Friday night until Sunday afternoon. He was away for a respite weekend at a camp for special needs kids. And while I had mixed feelings about it—looking forward to the time while wondering how worried I’d be—as it turned out everything went very well and I needn’t have worried at all. Having other kids there whom he knows helped (at least my own comfort level) and the aid assigned to his care is someone he’s worked with before through another program. Since he’s basically non-verbal and not affectionate, he came home without a word and as if he’d never been gone. But he was happy and clean, and they told us he had a good time. That’s one of our son’s best qualities: few transition troubles.
But here is what I realized during this very quiet weekend. While I think agoraphobia is too strong a description for me, I did find myself wanting to stick close to home. This is a little surprising considering I’ve spent the last sixteen and a half years feeling tied to it—home to meet the needs of a handicapped child. He’s away at school for six hours a day, which is when I get my writing done, but that, too, is something that keeps me home. A few years ago I’d have guessed I would want to feel the freedom of leaving the house whenever I felt like it. But I didn’t. Instead, I wanted to enjoy the quiet.
Because that’s something else I felt aware of over the weekend. The contrast of what our house would sound like without Fragile X in it. Lots of noise comes with my son’s particular lifestyle. He likes to watch kid-videos, and we let him because there are not many things he can do to pass the day. So this weekend, there was no Barney playing in the background, no musical toys he likes to bang on. No Clifford computer games. No raspberries he’s so fond of doing whenever he’s awake.
Just quiet.
Ah.
I spent most of Saturday doing a marathon Downton Abby viewing. I don’t tend to watch much television, unless I’m in the kitchen putting together lunches or cooking a meal, and then it’s usually the news because I don’t have to actually look at the screen for that. I can just listen. My husband and I did go out to dinner on Saturday for an early Valentine’s date. (Olive Garden! It was great.) But even while we were out I found myself thinking I’m glad I’d stayed home that day. There was just something about a quiet house that refreshed me.
I did wonder, fleetingly, if having had a taste of what “normal” life would be, I’d resent the return of constant interruptions, the unending service required to take care of someone who cannot do for himself, and of course the noise. But you know what? Like our son, we didn’t have any transition trouble, either. The duties we’ve had around here for so many years are just part of who this family is. And we all slipped right back into our roles, like a tailor-made coat. It fits us, or perhaps we’ve grown to fit it over the years.
But I think we may do this respite thing again if we can work it out . . .
So glad to hear that you had a quiet weekend. Having been a one car family for the better part of seven years, it was difficult to get used to the freedom that comes with transportation. It's almost as if someone said "Here's the world, go enjoy it" and being so overwhelmed, that I just stayed in my little cubby instead.
It's been a few months now, but we're starting to get the hang of enjoying our time away from the house.
Quiet weekends are golden, refueling times. I cannot imagine your situation on a day-to-day basis. I stand in awe of the amazing people God calls to love and be caretakers of handicapped children. The fact that you didn't want to leave your house simply tells me that your home is your sanctuary. A place where you live honestly and feel comfortable in your own skin. I get that! Blessings and thanks for your wonderful post.
What a lovely way to put it – that my home is my sanctuary. It certainly is that! I hope it is for the rest of the family, too. Thanks for that thought, Donna!
And Tina, I'm glad I'm not the only one who's experienced this phenomena! I wonder if they've ever tested those cute little white mice and found out something similar? Perhaps, like us, they would stay in their familiar circle even if given all the freedom of the world. Interesting… and I hope you don't mind me comparing us to those mice! Actually a friend of mine once had a white pet mouse, or perhaps it was a rat. A little like a hamster, except according to her he was much smarter. 🙂
I don't mind the mouse analogy at all! I think the mice probably do stay home, especially if there's something fun to watch on the tv, good food in the fridge, and quiet time to enjoy both.