It all goes by so fast.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It all goes by so fast…
The in utero diagnosis
The constant prayers
Your frail body being lifted from the abyss
Wailing for life
You & me
A cacophony of hope.
And brain surgery at 3 days old
And again, a year later
And in 2009
And most recently, 2 years ago.

It all goes by so fast…

5 years of sleepless nights
The studies,
The pokes,
The prods
The wins
And walking at 8!
And talking at 15!
And the lows
Aggression
And screaming
And meds
And more brain surgeries
But not for you –
Biopsy confirms
Terminal.
Cancer.
A funeral planned
And a wedding too.

It all goes by so fast…

The moves
One, two, three
Uprooted
Again
& again
& again
For resources
& services
& support
For you
And for us.

It all goes by so fast…

And here we are
6 months from your 18th birthday
When you become a legal adult
Except that’s not how it works for us.
I have papers that state otherwise
Papers that tell the truth
That you will need me forever
Papers that grant me control.
And I have mixed feelings
About this type of control.

“As long as you’re living, my baby you’ll be.”

A beautiful sentiment
For most
But for us…
It’s more literal
Isn’t it?

It all goes by so fast…

We’ll make plans for your future
soon.
Away from home
And what that might involve
And include
For everyone.
We pray
And yearn
And most of all
We hope for a beautiful, thriving community
For you
And for us
Someday.

It all goes by so fast…

The days are long
And the years are short
And that’s partially true
My boy
My son who defied every odd
And lived
But in living
The years stretch on and on
Without an end
Because –
in the blink of an eye
I sobbed
Because –
You lived!
And now,
I sob again
Because –
I’m staring at this stack of papers
Papers that state the clinical truth
But not the whole truth
Not the ‘mom with her fingers crossed behind her back’ kind of truth
Not the heart truth.
Papers that simply state
WHY
Why I will forever be
Your person
Your cheerleader
Your caregiver.

It all goes by so fast…

The days are long
And the years are short
Unless you are like me
a forever caregiver
Then the days feel a bit longer
Than average
And the years do too.
But that’s ok
Because I’m your person,
My Luke
My forever boy
And you’re mine too.
It all goes by so fast.

Just keep livin ❤️

Written by Jess Ronne @jessplusthemess

The Lost Girls

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I look in the mirror
And what do I see?
A different she
Than the one who is me

A tired she
A she that’s not free
An overwhelmed she
With what used to be

A she with deep bags
Beneath vacant eyes
Who hides in the bathroom
And breaks down and cries

A worn-out she
From the caregiving life
A she with more grays
From pain and from strife

A she void of makeup
And covered in grime
A ratty T-shirt
That she wears all the time

Dirty hair piled high
Upon a tired head
Moments like these
Make her wanna crawl in bed.

She lets out a sigh
And gathers her wits
Back to the grind
Which feels like the pits

She loves him dearly
The child she bore
She’s just plumb worn out
And achy and sore

Continuous care
For her disabled son
With no expiration
For when she’ll be done

Strenuous duties
Have taken a toll
And created a space
That feels like a hole

A hole where she
Used to reside
And now has gone missing
Where lost girls abide

In missing herself
She yearns for better days
And hopes change will occur
To transform caregiver ways

With determined resolve
She wipes tears away
And gathers her strength
To lift her voice & say

We caregivers need help!
And resources too!
Stop saying no!
To all that we do!

We must notice the shes
In each isolated space
Hiding the lost girls
But I see your face

I see you dear one
Because I am you
I see all you caregivers
And all that you do.

Stay strong and stay grounded
Take a moment for yourself
For what you accomplish
Surpasses all wealth

We are holy work doers
Across all the land
The Lord sees what we do
United we stand

We will speak our truth
At times with a rhyme
We will change our world
One she at a time.

Copyright @jessronne

Special Ed Solutions for School Closures.

A few weeks ago I was quoted in an article about how school closures have affected my family, especially in regards to my son with special needs who can not learn virtually. Read the article here.  This quote led to a feature on Fox News where I very quickly had to share my thoughts. Admittedly, I had so much more to say, but I did what I could with my 3 minute segment. Since airing, I’ve had many of you reach out, sharing the same frustrations & stories about how your special ed son or daughter isn’t receiving an education when schools shut down because they simply won’t learn virtually or can’t learn virtually. When our family went into lock down in March of 2020, it was literally hell for months. Luke went to school one day & then never returned & this disruption to his schedule caused constant screaming, aggression, regression and pacing back & forth as he repeatedly asked “go to school?”

My husband & I tallied & came to the conclusion that Luke had, at a minimum, 7 people working with him on a daily basis at school. Seven people with specific certifications & degrees such as physical therapy, speech therapy or behavioral specialist – all specialties we weren’t certified in & somehow, the two of us who had full time jobs & 7 other children were supposed to fulfill the roles of all these people it took to educate Luke in one day.

Needless to say, we didn’t. We did our best. We worked on his life skills. We practiced his flash cards. We went to the park & walked but there was absolutely no way we could adequately fulfill his IEP when at school it took a minimum of 7 people a day to work with him.

I’m not sure how exactly I became the face of this problem (or if I even want to be the face!) but here we are & I’ve had numerous people ask, “I get it Jess, it’s awful! But what’s the solution?” And, I’m just a mom. I’m not privy to school budgets or politics or employee recruitment practices, but I do have a few thoughts on the matter & maybe even potential solutions including the following:

1. Pull aids, teachers & subs from other schools & classrooms. My typical children are capable of learning virtually unlike my son with special needs who requires face to face opportunities. Not entirely ideal but a possible solution if we pulled teachers, aids & subs from these classrooms to help out in special Ed classrooms when there are shortages due to Covid or staffing issues.

2. Pay more! And way more for aids willing to work in Special Ed. Offer bonus money to subs who work a certain number of days. My 16 year old daughter receives a $500 bonus after she works for 6 months in retail. Every business is offering this! Why aren’t schools? And, aids who work in Special Ed classrooms must be compensated accordingly & this is not minimum wage. This job requires so much more than that of a typical classroom & often times includes specialized training. I can’t find respite workers for less than $15 an hour & aids (or subs) who work in these classrooms should also be paid at least this amount.

3. Let parents decide regarding contact tracing & virtual. Some children are medically fragile or immune compromised, and if this was the case for my child, I would absolutely be more concerned during cold, flu and Covid season, but he’s not and there is an extremely low chance that he would ever have complications or die from the flu or Covid; however, there is a very high chance that he (and we) might have a mental breakdown & financial hardships if he doesn’t attend in person schooling because we can’t work.  Mental health trumps physical health in our situation, but this could very easily be different for another family. Choice is a good thing. Let parents choose.

4. Offer a stipend to homeschool. Some states offer this & it’s not much but at least it’s a viable choice. When we lived in Tennessee, we were offered around $900 a month if we chose to homeschool Luke. This isn’t much but at least it gives parents a little bit of autonomy over the situation, & if the parent is expected to set aside their whole life to educate their son or daughter for an extended amount of time, they should be compensated. Or, perhaps a group of parents could pool their money together and start a special Ed co-op. Normally, we have numerous options when it comes to schooling for our typical children, and we should have a few for our special ed students as well.

Again, I don’t claim to understand the inner workings of each and every school district but these might be viable & attainable solutions for a problem that doesn’t seem to be going away any time soon. Any other thoughts?

Just keep livin.

It Is Well With My Soul.

Over the past year I’ve witnessed the demise of many leaders; often pinnacles of faith who have fallen from grace, men and women who most assuredly began their careers with the noblest of intentions. Individuals who, through the passage of time, became enamored with self and blinded by fame & fortune; who lost perspective on their place within humanity because of a choice to turn from that still small voice.

I believe we each have the innate potential to fall far from grace; to perceive ourselves as better than we ought to. I know I do. Under different circumstances I could really embrace how special I think I am, hold on tightly to the perception that I’ve gotten this life thing figured out real good, lean into pride and her enticing offers & allow her to nibble away at my soul as she has with others who have climbed the ladder of success.

I think about all of this as I prepare to release a book and a documentary into the world.

Two creations that could potentially cast a pretty bright light on my life.

Perhaps.

I’m a first born, “me do it” Enneagram one who thrives on accomplishments and making a difference & these attributes are typically celebrated by society with lots of accolades and praise, & yes, this recognition is nice. I am human. It’s nice to be acknowledged for your achievements & even nicer still to have people perceive you as a good person; a person making positive strides in the steps of humanity; a respectful person with character. Of course it’s nice.

I’ve worked diligently & finished projects which might push me a little bit out of the shadows of anonymity & possibly into a world for which I am unprepared & yet –

I will continue to rise every morning
And diaper my 16 year old son
(which is as humility building as it gets some days)
And help him get dressed
And pour his juice into a sippy cup
And put socks upon his feet
And lace up his sneakers
And assist him to the car
And gently close the door but not until he says in his sweet sing song way –
“Bye! Have a good day!”
And I turn and walk away
With a smile on my face.
This is our routine
Me and my Luke
Every single day.

These monotonous actions serve as a reminder as they did with the apostle Paul – a prickly thorn that breathes humility into my swelling soul & deflates any pride that may try to sneak in; crushing it in an instant as my boy demands yet another round of –

“Paddy cake, paddy cake, bakers man, bake me a cake as fast as you can.”

And as his smile reaches for the stars, I lean into the understanding that he and I are created in the image of our Maker, one not better than the other, simply different with unique purposes & gifts, & the only attribute that makes us great is dutifully reacting in joyful obedience to the hard & holy tasks we’ve been called to accomplish.

Each staying faithful to the race we must run.

This uncomfortable road, this thorn of special needs & autism, this aching joy which serves as a gift – a gift that calls me to daily lay down my life & continuously keeps my head from ballooning & serves as a constant jab reminding me of who I am and who I am not by stripping away any pretenses. This gift which prepares a table before me in the presence of fame & fortune & pride; where Luke & I dine with the Shepherd feasting on humility & special needs & gulping down goblets of grace.

It is well with my soul.
It is well with Luke’s soul.
And that is enough.

Just keep livin