Yesterday I attended a meeting at school with a number of professionals who are involved in his life and we planned what we need to do over the next year to take the best care of him. When I arrived at school I was asked to go to the Orthotics clinic, where Joshua was trying on his new callipers, instead of his current splints. He was delighted to see me, leapt up and squeezed me tight over and over again. He was taken out into the corridor so that we could see how well he could walk in them and as we did that, a crowd of professionals , on their way to his EHC meeting, approached. He looked up and scanned the group of people. He was thrilled to see his workers from his respite provision and gave them a bear hug, swapping between them and me. If ever I was in any doubt that he loved the people that look after him one weekend a month – which I was not by the way! – there it was right in front of me. But all of this hugging and excitement was not getting on with the trial of callipers, so I asked them to continue into the meeting room so that we could see him walking up and down the corridor.
So the meeting got off to a pretty chaotic start. We invited Joshua to join us but he declined, as he ran away up the corridor, back towards his class. He had said hello but then he did not wish to sit in a meeting room, while we all discussed his future, so we respected his choice and did not insist. Given that we were talking for well over an hour, he may well have made the right choice.
At the end of the meeting, one lady from the Local Authority, who I had not met before, shook my hand and praised me for my ‘resilience’. She said that as she had an autistic son of her own, she knew about fighting,but that she had had nothing like the struggles that we had faced over the years. I was taken aback as she did not know me Joshua or our struggles but I tried to graciously take the compliment. I find it difficult to be told ‘well done’ about my parenting skills, as though I deserve a medal for being Joshua’s mother. Strangers are forever touching me on the arm, tilting their head to one side and saying ” well done” ; they mean it kindly I am sure, but I find it an insult to Joshua – as though he is something to be endured or overcome – and also to myself – as though this is a job that I need encouragement to fulfill, but perhaps I am being overly -sensitive? So I smiled sweetly and thanked her for her compliment, but moved on so that she did not dwell on it and so that I did not say anything that I might have regretted.
It was an emotional morning, and I lost count of the number of times that the dreaded ‘Transition’ word was used.It felt as though I was being prepared for the impending change that will soon be with us, whether I like it or not.