We had a really nice, drama free Thanksgiving. Thomas was home, Tommy picked him up Tuesday night as the weather people were predicting a bad storm for us that we never had. It was fine though. We had a really nice visit. Thomas’ behavior was fine and even had some laughs. My boy has a beautiful smile.
Saying goodbye after a nice weekend was the worst. Tommy decided Sunday morning would be best traffic wise. When it was time to go Thomas became very upset and the next thing I know we’re both crying. Tommy says he wonders what is worse, bringing him back when the visit is not so good or bringing him back after a nice easy visit. Personally I think it’s easier when his behavior sucks, this way we have no guilt. But the other day man…I was reminded of the decision we made, how difficult that decision was and still is. The reminder that we can’t give him what he needs. That part hurts, really hurts.
I was thinking of Thanksgiving last year. My anxiety was rediculously high and I was apprehensive about Thomas being home. Thanksgiving was nice and uneventful. Except after everyone left I had to clean like there was no stopping me. Tommy and the kids were trying to watch a movie and I needed to vacuum. Yes I needed to vacuum. This didn’t go over to well with everyone else but I managed to get it done quickly.
We went to the mall the night of Black Friday. It wasn’t that crowded but out of nowhere I had an anxiety attack and needed to get out of there. I was a ton of fun last year I tell you.
It’s amazing what a year can do or bring. Even though saying goodbye to Thomas was so very hard I was able to do it and not fall apart. We cried together and he told me he was sad. That he recognized and named his emotion is a big deal. My husband texted me that Thomas transitioned well when they arrived back at school. For years I’ve said that God has blessed my son with this tremendous gift of resilience. He is able to live away from us and become acclimated to a new environment and people he doesn’t even know. My son is very brave in my opinion.
It’s funny though because when he’s home, things are very different. Thomas needs to be kept “busy” and that isn’t always easy. I have to get back into the routine of his meds and their times. At meal times we have to remind Thomas to pull his chair in, eat over your plate, slow down… And I forget how much a teen age boy can eat. I’m not complaining.
I know we made the right decision for our family to choose residential school. I just miss the Thomas who was stabile and not aggressive, the one who lived at home.