make a difference

Yesterday was National Make a Difference Day.  235 volunteers from my church signed up and volunteered in a number of service projects across our local area.  This year, my schedule allowed me to participate and I asked Lily to join me.  A few weeks ago, we visited the table in the church lobby together, to decide what project was a fit for us.  It was a pretty easy pick... and we got the last available slot on the sign-up sheet for this one.  Our chosen mission was to help throw a fall party for the residents of a local home for adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities.  With a beloved son/brother with such disabilities, we knew this was in our wheelhouse.

But, I'm not sure who made the most difference.

The residents may not know it, but they made a difference for me.  The majority of them were extremely warm and welcoming; freely giving hugs, smiles, handshakes, high-fives, conversation, and even a few [slightly uncomfortable] pecks on the cheek. Although a bit reserved, I rolled with it, knowing first-hand that my son and other similarly-disabled folks struggle conforming to what is often deemed socially appropriate behavior.  The beauty of that, though, is that these folks are just real, genuine people.

I left their home feeling happy.  Not happy because of anything I did.  But, happy because I had been shown love and appreciation. They really made my day.

I also left their home feeling encouraged.  See, Benny's future weighs pretty heavy on me, as a father.  I do not know what the future looks like for my son, but I do not foresee him living completely independently.  I'm not scripting that dependence for him, but I try to see things as a realist and, therefore, I feel like he may need some level of assistance for the remainder of his life.  I really struggle with what that will look like when his mom and I are no longer able to look after him, either due to age or death.

What then?

At some point, all three of his siblings have expressed that they can see him living part of the time with them in their adulthood.  That they would each recognize the need, as kids, to look out for him in adulthood, is huge for me.  However, I also know it is not completely realistic... and is it even fair?  They will have lives of their own, and their brother may not fit well with their adult lives.  And, that is completely okay.

But, he's my son.  I love him like crazy and I want him to be cared for and loved.  I want him to have a productive and meaningful life.  As a dad and provider, I try to manage my resources well by living modestly and frugally.  Supporting a family of six on a single income, though, is not easy.  I am not on track for much of a retirement and I certainly don't have much abundance to leave a fat trust behind to help him along.

So, I often stress about what his future will look like when he can no longer depend on me.

The folks I met today made a difference by giving me hope.  Facilities... institutions... homes... whatever you call them, the thought of that for Benny often saddens me.  But, today, I was encouraged.  I was encouraged that there are places where folks with developmental disabilities are loved, valued, and have a sense of family.  The folks I met today love their home and love each other like family.  I talked to many who had lived there many years and they had formed close friendships.  I ate lunch with a somewhat elderly man who wore a ring on his left hand.  I asked him the significance of it and he pointed to the lady across the table from us and said she bought it for him and that they had been "together" twenty four years.  She then showed me the ring he had bought her and verified twenty four years. She told me they were best friends and they look out for each other, proving that understanding true loyalty has very little to do with one's level of intellect.

Many of the residents who are able are also employed at the workshop next door.  Three of the residents told me about the work they do and asked me what I did.  They all three proudly handed me the business card that the workshop prints for them, declaring their name and their title of "Labor Specialist".  Another man showed me a loom that he works with in his free time.  He told me that he and his girlfriend (pointing her out across the room) make scarves and hats for cancer patients and baby blankets to give away.  He showed me one of the blankets that he was working on and it was very nice.

I am very thankful to the many people who make a difference in my son's life, and I was very glad I took a few hours of my day to try to give a little of that back.  But, the love and gratitude, and the hope for my son's future that I received was probably more valuable than anything I actually gave.  Thank you, Eddie, Frank, Ron, Julie, Bonnie, Wally, Glenn (and others, whose names now escape me) for making a difference for me!