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Shifting perspective

I was sitting in the auditorium with Caleb waiting for the band concert to start when the teenager in front of me turns around and looks at us. It’s evident by the facial features he has Down syndrome. 

 

He introduces himself and asks who I am and what Caleb’s name is. He’s clearly curious about Caleb and asks why Caleb’s not talking. Caleb, who has been talking to me nonstop since we entered the auditorium, has suddenly become shy and forgotten all his words except, dolphin and shark. This was his reply to every question the young man asked him. 

 

Well, a conversation can’t really go anywhere when all the responses are either dolphin or shark. So the young man turns his attention back to me and peppers me with questions instead.

 

Pretty soon the dad notices his son is regaling me with a zillions questions. He apologizes to me and asks his son to turn around. I told the dad it was perfectly fine. His son can talk to me as long as he wishes. 

 

The desire of my heart

Because what the dad didn’t know is that I long to have this with Caleb. To carry on a dialogue beyond the same few words, animal names, animal sounds, and rote answers that dominate all our chats. 

 

Every time Caleb and I talk, I long for him to tell me something new, something different. I was tired of our repetitive babble. It’s like watching the same movie several times a day…every day…every month…every year. I can actually carry on our exchange all by myself without him. That’s how monotonous it is.

 

One time I even had him try to imitate a conversation (which he thought was funny). It was a dismal failure. Moreover, I quickly learned I was losing my patience with Caleb….a lot… and becoming frustrated by his repetitive babble.

 

Bantering with my younger son

All I wanted was to have an intelligent conversation with him, which is ironic because my younger son and I have unintelligent conversations ALL the time (to the dismay of my husband).  

 

But I enjoy those moments when we’re bantering about something ridiculous and having silly nonsensical discussions, mispronouncing words and meanings on purpose, or coming up with outlandish theories (again to the dismay of my husband). 

 

Truth be told, most of the time we have our unintelligent conversations it’s more to get a reaction from my husband rather than having a discussion between us. It’s become our thing and we’re really good at it.

 

The barriers to my son’s language

I guess in some ways I would like to talk with Caleb in much the same way. I would like to carry on a dialogue with him, intelligent or not.

 

It’d be great to know how he’s doing or what he’s thinking. But he’s a mystery. I can only understand his feelings by his behavior. Even then, I don’t always know the WHY of his reaction. For example, the time l asked him to eat his lunch and he got upset and ran out of the room. I have absolutely no idea why he was upset.

 

He said he was hungry. I made him exactly what he wanted. I placed it on the counter in his usual spot. Then I told him his lunch was ready. That was it. Without even looking at his lunch, he got upset and stormed out of the room. When I asked him why he was upset. He didn’t really answer my question, choosing instead to start naming animals and the sounds they make. 

 

My struggle

I struggled with this a lot because being able to communicate effectively has the potential to improve Caleb’s life in many ways. He definitely wouldn’t need me to interpret. Secondly, he could express exactly what he wanted or how he was feeling, there would be no guessing. Most importantly, he could actually talk to people, not rattle off the names of animals or objects or make animal sounds.

 

So for a time, I could only see the conversations Caleb and I were NOT having.

 

Ecclesiastes

Then I began to study the book of Ecclesiastes (in the Bible). The Teacher, as the author of Ecclesiastes likes to refer to himself, talks about the brevity of life. There are so many verses that talk about the importance of enjoying life and living, not just existing.

 

It’s the same sentiment I often hear at the funerals of those who died unexpectedly. Someone always talks about making sure we don’t take life for granted.

 

The truth is, when we’re living it, it’s very easy to take life for granted. We think life will go on tomorrow as it did today. But we really don’t know.

 

In Ecclesiastes, the Teacher examined life and the purpose of living. He looked at everything under the sun, as he calls it. Then over and over again he talks about the importance of enjoying life. Not waiting for tomorrow but savoring each day when we are alive because we can’t enjoy it when we’re dead.

 

Shifting my perspective

I’ve read the book of Ecclesiastes several times but this is the second time I’m studying it. I totally missed this message in my first study but this time around, those verses jumped right off the page and took root in my heart. 

 

It could be that I lost my uncle unexpectedly this year, so I understood very well we don’t know how long we have. Could be I see my parents and parents-in-law getting older and I’m not sure how long they will live. Perhaps I see how Alzheimer’s has stolen my mother-in-law. She’s alive but not living. It could be a combination of all these factors.

 

But for some reason, this time around I understand how important it is to enjoy life every day in a way I’ve never understood it before. I saw how vital it was to force myself to be present…in the moment, even if it’s the same conversation I had yesterday. Because this is a good day. Both Caleb and I are alive and that’s a blessing. 

 

What I’ve discovered

Amazingly, shortly after I shifted my perspective, my dialogues with Caleb didn’t bother me anymore. It’s still repetitive but it’s not a nuisance. As a matter of fact, it’s our thing and I know I will miss it when it’s gone. 

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