My Precious Aunt Pearl

Uncle Bill, Aunt Pearl, Sheryl

Last summer I travelled with my mother to Michigan to see relatives.  I had concerns about how my kids would manage without me, but I needed to go see some special people, my Godparents.  Too many years had snuck by, and their health was not the best.  This trip would also give my kids an opportunity to learn how to manage without me.

My mom and I spent five days traversing her old stomping grounds.  We met up with a few of her siblings and spouses and my cousins.  Her oldest brother and spouse, my Uncle Bill and Aunt Pearl, are my God-parents.  I first remember meeting them on a cold December night, when we were visiting during Christmas vacation.  I never knew snow could be so cold, and I understood why my parents left the freezing temperatures of the Midwest for the mild weather of Southern California!

During that December trip, we stayed with my Uncle Bill and Aunt Pearl for about a week, not venturing out much because of the cold.  For entertainment, Aunt Pearl gave my sisters and me some tips to playing the organ (although we played the piano).  We also baked, cooked, played cards, and bunch of silly things to pass the time.  It was simple fun!

After that trip, I started writing my relatives frequently.  I sent photos and letters whenever a special event in my life occurred.  My cousin, Anne, was really the only one who responded with regularity, but she kept me apprised of all in her family.

So it's been over 40 years since the December trip, and now my mom and I visit the same people, albeit much older.  Time had changed our physical features, but the same spirit of spunk remained.  I spent some one-on-one time with my Aunt Pearl.  She was still spry and sharp--at times.  When she wasn't, she said something, probably in Hungarian so I wouldn't know that she probably said something she should not have.  Then she smiled and cursed her "forgetfulness" or "slowness" with renewed patience and grace.  She laughed heartily, and carried on.  We all knew her time on earth was limited, as is all of ours.

I remember her laugh from 40 years ago.  Nothing loud and annoying.  Just a hearty laugh.  It was truly an endearing exclamation of joy and happiness.

Last Friday I received a call, informing me of my Aunt Pearl's passing.  Her family had gathered at her side, and she passed quietly.  I pray she passed peacefully.

Dear Aunt Pearl, I hope the heavens are filled with the sound of your joyful laughter.  Love, Sheryl

Ryan Moving Out?!

Ever since Ryan was a baby, he wanted to be independent.  As soon as he learned to walk at nine months, he was in constant motion.  At ten months, he was running.  He wanted to be where he was not.  Wherever we travelled, he explored his environment with great speed and enthusiasm.

As a toddler, he played with his toys by himself mostly, but he did laugh and enjoy his older brothers' company.  I could hear him laugh with them.  He also loved to run with them.  He was a natural at distance running, which he had to be to keep up with the bigger boys.

As autism emerged, Ryan isolated himself into his own world.  I reflect back, and I surmise it was easier for him to exist.  He lost most of his speech.  At age four, he had command of 31 words, 15 of them were more akin to grumbles than real words.

Over the years we encouraged him and helped him learn to deal with our world.  He has grown into a young man of hidden talent, incredible imagination, and indisputable intelligence.  He can communicate well with anyone who asks him questions.  Most people would simply think he is a shy person.

He has wants and dreams like anyone else.  He craves to be recognized as an individual.  I respect his desire to move out and be responsible for himself.  Early this month we submitted an application for an apartment.  Pending that approval, there is an apartment vacancy coming at the end of the month that Ryan was offered.  Ryan enthusiastically accepted.  Ryan smiled.

Ryan's photo work

As a mom, my goal is to raise children who will move out and be their own persons as adults.  My love is to push them out the door, ultimately.  My two oldest sons have moved out, and I happily let them go, with a slight twinge of bittersweet pang.  With Ryan I have more concern and questions regarding his readiness to face the world alone.  However, I am reminded that every man must face the world.  Alone.  Autism or not.

While I may lurk in the background, that is all I can probably do--lurk.  I have to let him go.  He may fall, and I won't be able to kiss his cheek, wipe away a tear, and hug him.  I won't be able to reassure him and encourage him spontaneously.  He will have to find his way, make his own decisions, and reap his rewards or consequences.

It may be more of a difficult transition for me than Ryan, but he has become his own man!

Building More Than a Table

Five boys rough housing over the last twenty some years has taken a toll on the furniture. Consequently, we have ditched quite a bit of it. Replacement has been a great opportunity for the boys to work together.

Cameron is very mechanically minded, and he loves to figure out how to assemble things without looking at the directions.  Sometimes, that can be a disaster.   However,  Cam possesses a great skill because, quite often, the directions lack clarity. This was the case for the coffee table.  Cameron informed me the directions were useless; there were just a bunch of two dimensional pictures that were not well drawn.

Together, Nick and Cameron built the table, but with some complications. Nick managed to strip a screw.  Not a huge deal, but Nick was not thrilled that it was not right.  Cameron guided Nick, and Nick mastered it.  Despite autism, Nick is adapting.

What a win:  Cameron is learning teaching skills and patience, and Nick is learning how to build things.  They are refining communication skills too.

Now, we have a new table, just in time for the Superbowl Game today. I hope this table will survive the three remaining boys and their jousting!