Yesterday I enjoyed a lovely conversation with a mama of a 20 year old total care daughter. As we chatted, I was quickly reminded that my Luke will be turning 17 this summer & as of yet, we don’t have a long term plan. Sure, I have aspirations & dreams but nothing cemented in stone.
So instead of being a sane individual & prepping for a move, or writing a book I’m under contract for, or launching a current book (or non-profit work or being present for my 8 children), I spent the day obsessively researching how to become a Medicaid provider & start a residential facility.
Of course I did.
I looked at vacant land, at huge pole barn kits that could be sectioned off into living quarters, duplexes, cheap commercial properties that my handy husband could renovate, & then I began to crunch numbers which only resulted in disappointing results. It’s a HEFTY price tag to have your loved one cared for 24/7 (try $20,000+ a month for ONE caregiver).
My point is this. As many of you prepare to launch your high school graduates off; full of anticipation & hope over a world of possibilities (& I’m doing this as well with my two oldest), there are those of us freaking out about the future of our unique kiddos.
In fact, I believe most of my grief with Luke has nothing to do with his diagnosis but much more to do with the uncertainty of his future & ours. If someone would say to me, “ At 22 years old he will move into this amazing residential facility where he will be well loved & cared for.” That would work! But no one says this to parents like me. We don’t hold our breath for admittance to college at 18 years old. We don’t hold our breath for admittance to anything!
No, we hold our breath that there will be an opening somewhere that provides peace to our souls before our child turns 40 or before we die. Whatever comes first.
We live for years in fear over what the future holds for us & for our children & me being me, I’m sick of the fear & in true Jessica fashion decided to take the bull by the horns & try to control the situation (which may or may not work – we shall see).
It is what it is.
But please, remember us.
In the middle of the big hoopla’s & parties & ceremonies to celebrate the typical ones, remember those of us who aren’t in a major celebratory mood or have much whoop de do going on because there aren’t any options for our grown kiddos.
And you know what, then do something for families like ours. As we show up to celebrate your kids, advocate for our children. Vote for change. Donate to the organizations making a difference in your community. Our societies are only as healthy as our caregivers and that includes caregivers of the typical & caregivers of those like Luke.
Just keep livin.
