Letting go…

After dropping my youngest son off to high school this morning, I pondered, “at what point along this path did I gain peace in regards to letting go?”

I am not at all suggesting that I have given up on his development or have relegated myself to the status quo. Instead, I sit here in a rare moment of silence realizing somewhere along the way I finally let go of the frustration and worry that continually dogged me with every decision I made.

I still think about decisions I make, commitments I have and how they do revolve around the needs of my kids, yet the desperation I once felt is no longer there.

Somewhere within these last four years post Asperger’s diagnosis, I have miraculously (and it is very much a miracle) let go of the frustration and implications that haunted my every move.

Part of it, I believe, is the realization that my stressed out state was overflowing onto the other members of my family. They can’t function well if I am running around like a warden and cracking a whip like some crazed dictator. Lan has enough to deal with and doesn’t need the frustration of a “crazy mother” on top of that.

I always worried about making everything the best it could be, nagged my kids to meet set goals, badgered my husband to adhere to the list of commands I deemed crucial, all in my failed attempts to better control my situation.

Autism is such an uncontrollable condition, not always the same on any given day.  Often, you don’t know what you’re going to deal with before the day is done. A broken leg is simply a broken leg. You suffer through it, work around it and eventually it heals. Unfortunately for us, autism just isn’t that simple. Its intangible characteristics don’t have clear boundaries, often transforming, evolving and changing us as well….if we allow it.

Somewhere along the line I decided to stop allowing Lan’s diagnosis run all over me. He was doing fine. I was the one socially and mentally imprisoned. I’m not sure when it happened, but I am extremely grateful for the transformation. I finally managed to accept the peace from God that I’d been praying for. It had been there for the taking; I just wasn’t smart enough or mature enough to take it!

We will never see how much God will do until we admit to ourselves just how little we can do within our own power. I’ve witnessed miracles both great and small. Sometimes it is the smallest ones, like a good grade on a quiz or an awesome picture he draws that bring the greatest joy.

In the past, I was always looking ahead to meet some goal, get him through the school year, develop a certain skill, or make him responsible that I often lost sight of the present. Lan has a certain catch phrase, “what’s wrong with that?” which is his usual response when I scold him about doing something I think he shouldn’t be doing.

Well, the mad tyrant that possessed me for so long subsides as I decide more and more often that there is nothing actually “wrong,” with the behavior I berated. Lan’s behavior for my over-correction was never anything crucial or disrespectful. I would often chide him for things I would find silly like dancing in the middle of the floor to his own internal music or devising some crazed concoction he deemed to be lunch, usually the very sight of which made my stomach churn.

I have realized Lan is often correct and sometimes there is “nothing wrong.” He may not do things the way I would them but that’s okay too. Letting go and allowing my child to express himself (within suitable boundaries, I’m not that far removed from my old self!) allows me the freedom to stop trying to control his every move. The release of my iron grip allows me to breathe a little and actually relax.

There was one point in my life where I don’t think I relaxed for years. I was in survival mode and it is very easy to stay there if you aren’t careful.  The challenges of parenting, in addition to all the other stuff life threw my way, kept me very much on the defensive. The problem with my survival mode was that it became permanent and not temporary.  I was always trying to anticipate and manipulate the future. This frantic and desperate state left me hopeless to enjoy my present.

In my quest to make everything “right” I got overzealous and failed to appreciate some of the strides made, large and small. But I’ve gotten better for not only my sanity but his as well. I was actually able to let go enough for Lan and his brother to fly up to Maryland and spend a week with their grandfather this summer. It was only a two hour flight but it may as well have been a world away.

I received an email from my father-in-law this morning describing how he enjoyed the kids’ visit and how they did just fine. My world didn’t break in two while they were gone. Lan had a wonderful experience with relatives he rarely gets to see. Letting my kids go it alone, without me, wasn’t easy.  However, it was certainly good for them. Some things cannot but taught. They must instead be experienced.

My child is now very proudly in public high school among his peers. He practically runs from the car to get inside. I will admit I can waver from proud to terrified in any given day. But, I am learning to let go of my fears as well. Cautious? Yes. Fearful?  Not so much.

The previous school years are becoming a blur, having passed so fast.  I don’t want to “endure” his high school years, I want to enjoy them. They too will be gone so soon. Every football game he so energetically cheers for, his fascination with school mascots, his enthusiasm at being part of the crowd, I want to celebrate. I can vividly remember years ago when he would hold his head down and shy away from people. He’s growing up. I’m growing…wiser.

Letting go the vise grip I once held gives Lan and I both permission to try new things and even fail. I don’t have to hold Lan’s hand upon every venture, milestone and accomplishment he seeks to achieve. It is more important that he knows my hand is available; always near, should he ever need to grab hold.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s