Living Hazzardously

Little pieces of our journey with Jesus

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The day I got a scar so big that I wept.

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The day I got a scar so big that I wept. 

 There comes a day in a man’s life when he takes a look at the “fork in the road”, mine is from a few years ago. Maybe it was the wrong fork? I don’t think so! … The fork in the road for me led me to this very day. I could live regretful and feel sorry, or I can look at it as a painful opportunity that led me to a prosperous life…  The reality is twofold… 

1st: The fork in my road was not a choice, it was a closed road in one direction and a rocky path in the other direction. 

2nd: Prosperity takes many forms, this form is Autism..

It’s no secret my divorce was a grueling and terrible experience, it truly does defeat a man in short order. BUT… it also brought me a new life. It’s not something I “wanted”, it’s not something I was seeking out and it’s certainly not something I would want for one of my boys. But there it is, the boys and I became scar covered and battered. Yet we dug in and overcame… I tell them “It’s just what Hazzards do!”

I did my best in those trying times, we gave up cable tv, we had no options for broadcast tv. I maintained an internet connection for the boys to help them with schoolwork. We ate rice and beans more times than I can count! We asked the county for help with food, to no avail. We didn’t “qualify” because we didn’t have disconnect notices for gas, electric or water. I was doing what I needed to do to meet the financial demands of those days, that means… rice and beans. It’s what Hazzards do, we survive.

My loyal dog never went hungry either, I just worked harder and longer. When the boys were away to visit their mother every other weekend, I would work, go for bike rides, walk the town and do whatever I could to stay sane… me and the boys did everything together, all the time… to be apart for even a few hours was a challenge, weekends were “our times”… camping, exploring, doing, building and everything, we lived for the days we didn’t go to school or work..

What does this have to do with Autism? Well, the good Lord was preparing my three sons and myself for a future challenge, a challenge we knew nothing about. And so, our stubbornness was at its apex, and it was found to be insufficient. I had finally learned how to live in the hope that God provides. Because I had nothing left, I was finally broken, not defeated, just fully dependent on my God, after all, HE is bigger than my problems. 

Fast forward to the summer or maybe the fall of 2014, I happened to be at church choir practice at the same time as the “catalyst” to my new life was also there, her name is Jessica. She too had a life of difficult years and together we became a force to be reckoned with! That was 2015. The start to a story I was not anticipating. A life that makes me question everything I have done and everything I plan to do.

Over the next few weeks, I hope to blog about what it’s like to become a stepfather to a son with autism. I hope to share our challenges and victories as well as sharing in our defeats. I want to share this in a way that is respectful and honest. I want to share this with all the emotions we have had, but not go too crazy. I want to share the scars and defeats as well as the major victories and the little wins. 

We hope this Blog finds you well today, LIvinghazzardously.

MIND EQUALS BLOWN!!

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The day that spelling hurt my head.

I have dyslexia and I have discovered a thing called “auto-correct” or another form is “spell check” BUT, what is Dyslexia? Is it stupidity? Is it a learning disability? Or is it just the way things are? Like a hair color? or personality traits?

The MAYO defined it as:

“Dyslexia is a learning disorder that involves difficulty reading due to problems identifying speech sounds and learning how they relate to letters and words (decoding). Also called a reading disability, dyslexia is a result of individual differences in areas of the brain that process language.

Dyslexia is not due to problems with intelligence, hearing or vision. Most children with dyslexia can succeed in school with tutoring or a specialized education program. Emotional support also plays an important role.

Though there’s no cure for dyslexia, early assessment and intervention result in the best outcome. Sometimes dyslexia goes undiagnosed for years and isn’t recognized until adulthood, but it’s never too late to seek help.”

CURE!??!!! I DONT WANT A CURE! I SAY HOGWASH! Dyslexia is a much-needed form of information processing for my talents, if you took it away from me, I would be crushed!!! Sure, it makes things harder in academia, but let’s be honest, school is a very short time in life (unless you become a teacher I guess). I attended school until I could “drop out” in my sophomore year of high school, how stupid? Well, let me tell you a secret… In the Eighth grade I earned a 2 year all-expense paid ride at the UofM but never used it. For me school was terribly slow repetition and mundane. My IQ was measured many years ago and it was actually very high. (stating facts, to prove my point, not bragging) SO WHY DID I DROP OUT?

I made the decision to drop out after 10th grade geometry, I was so excited to start this wonderful world of shapes and magic. Instead, I was forced into a chair, and we started reviewing basic math. For a few weeks I tried really hard to sit in the class and learn but all we did was basic math skills… AND I MEAN BASIC! I was so disappointed and discouraged that I just gave up, I dropped out of school and started experimenting with what destroyed my life for many years to come. That is the topic of future blogs.

I have been doing my own research on dyslexia and have found some breakthrough information that has helped me learn how to better function in my very unique world and how I see things. Dyslexia can better be described using a threefold approach. I will try to explain this complex pattern of thoughts in a simple and short manner. I know I will misrepresent this information as some folks understand it and may leave out other information that, yet others may understand better. My point is not to perfectly explain the Dyslexic person in every situation but rather to represent my challenges in my own experiences.

When I say the sentence “The sky is blue” we can see basically three distinct ways to process that sentence. The first is to look at the words and think of the words as they make up the sentence (word thinking). The second, and probably the most common way, is to visualize the “blue sky” (picture thinking). BUT the dyslexic person may see both words and pictures with an enhancement… 3D thinking. Thinking. Seeing the words and the picture but in a 3-dimensional way. Seeing the words from front, back, top and bottom. This is why I can never seem to master spelling. I see words and letters from all sides as if they are objects as well as words. But wait, there is more: I see the picture of a blue sky from three dimensions as well.

MIND EQUALS BLOWN!

So, for me it is like seeing every sentence, word, idea, thought and concept as a three-dimensional computer-generated display. Think of the “Iron Man” computer, it displays a three-dimensional interactive interface that can be spun, twisted, expanded and changed… So, I can see what I want to make, do or feel but I can’t explain it in common language. 

Mayo got it all wrong! Dyslexia is not a deficiency and certainly not a disability, it’s an enhancement. And gives me the ability to create things in my head and troubleshoot things that some are unable to even understand. Does this make me superhuman? Better? Superior? Well, no but it does make me better at what I do. And to be frank, I love my disab-yslexia. And so does Jessica, because she is a word thinker and together, we are perfect, apart we fall short. I thank the Lord for my disability.

I pray you feel our Lord has richly bless you this beautiful day, Living Hazzardously.

Dear Mr Cellophane, Please refrain, Mr Cellophane.

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Dear Mr Cellophane, Please refrain, Mr Cellophane.

Her scream pierced the night as if it were a tornado siren!  Shattering the silent calm with shrieks of terror. The puppeteer, now in full control, reaping, claiming & taking over her very will, leaving nothing untouched. Like a tornado when it hits a small town. TERROR ON EVERY SIDE. Quick! Everyone hide! Head to the basement! Under the stairs! Into a closet! Into safety…  But today, there is no place to hide, no safe place to be. As if we sat in a vast open field. We sat on the edge of our bed, so horribly unprotected, the “siren” wails, we can’t run, we can’t hide, we can only sit here as the storm devours us. It swallows our life in one large gulp, one devastating statement, “He didn’t make it”. That scream was only one word, yet it said all there was to say. That word will forever haunt my memories…. “WHAT”.  

I watched a woman cry out in pain on tv after she had the truth revealed to her in real time about her beloved child and I too cried. I was there when my father died and I watched my mother cry out in pain when my sister died in a tragic crash. I was with my mother the day she passed away. I sang at the funeral of my niece who was murdered. Death is real and it is inevitable! So why do we react the way we do? Everyone is going to “Kick the bucket”. Is it a surprise?

When death enters the life of a friend or relative, how should we react? Should we offer long statements of how we know what you are going through? Perhaps we should simply connect at the beginning with hugs and attention and slowly drift back to a settled life we had before this event? Maybe we should just do our best to ignore It and not even acknowledge the situation? What is the best way to react? What is the proper way to connect? Is there a wrong way? I personally think this is a much more complicated question and it depends greatly on the relationship.

When my step son Sam passed away that August night, I started on a journey that was “unfamiliar” to me. I had previously experienced plenty of death in my life, I knew the attention I should expect. The responses people give in different situations can vary more than the East is from the West… BUT I did not expect this : “Dear Mr Cellophane, Please refrain, Mr Cellophane”. I experienced a form of disconnect or perhaps a better description is invisibleness in the months that followed. It was as if the expectation others  had were more like I had lost a distant third cousin that I only met once about 20 years ago. This not only surprised me, it made me feel like my relationship with Sam was insignificant and meant little to nothing. I could only assume this was simply because I am his “step father”. 

In the months to come I heard statements like “Ohh this must be so hard on Jess and Al, do you know how his father is doing?” or “Wow, this must be so hard, How is Jess handling this?” or maybe “I remember when(insert a favorite memory) happened, Does Jess need anything? You know we are always here to help, whatever Jess and Al need, just let us know!” I started to feel invisible and I started to feel like I didn’t experience the death of a child, now granted, he was not my blood child, and I don’t want to downplay that role. I am also adopted into a family, the family of God and God thinks of me no less than his “blood” child. 

It wasn’t until months, well actually about a year later that I found a man who also was ‘Mr Cellophane”, he too was the step father to a child that ran ahead into heaven… and he actually knew what I felt. For the first time since Sam passed away, I understood I was not crazy in this area and the feelings I felt were very similar to his… he had raised this boy of his from a very early age… he too was invisible.

I am not looking for “pity” and I certainly don’t want attention but I did find it was hard and for a brief moment in time I think I can understand a bit of how God may feel. When God is not given the credit due him for being our Father. Ohh I know, it’s different, I’m not saying I am God or that I know what it’s like.. But it got me thinking… Do I give God the attention he deserves for stepping into my life and being my step father? Do I recognize the commitment and dedication he has given freely to me? How about you? Do you need to take a second and credit God what is due to God for being your GOOD STEP DAD? 

May God bring you peace today

Livinghazzardously for God.