Living Hazzardously

Little pieces of our journey with Jesus

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AHHH SWEET ROMANCE!!

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AHHH SWEET ROMANCE!!

As we headed into Home Depot for our very first time, Sam tagged in behind us and Jacob walked beside us but Al blasted the path and was super excited with all the lights and Christmas decorations. The year was 2014 and I was just learning the nuances of this family dynamic. It only took me about two or maybe three trips with Al to discover my massive mistake that day, a mistake I see happen over and over again as people meet Al the first time. 

As we started about the store for a simple trip, or so I thought, I sensed that I had already made a mistake, but I had no clue what or how big it was. You see, I thought I knew how to react to Al and his childish excitement he displayed at the lights. Jess had already started the “regulation” process with Al, but I was just so happy that Al was excited to be out that I perpetuated the excitement, just a little. What I didn’t know was why and how…. Like so many others when they meet Al, they see him as a happy, sweet and kind person with great manners, which is all true but with a huge “but” attached to that statement…. Al does not self-regulate, he amps up and if left unchecked, the obsessive side takes over without notice and he becomes quickly “out of control.”

What do I mean out of control? We see him at church, and he is always so sweet and kind and respectful! What you may not see is lying in wait just under the careful desire he has to show respect, it can turn in a moment and the next thing you know, we are swiftly exiting the church without saying goodbye to anyone. Jess told me once “You just don’t know how many times I have had to leave somewhere because Al was out of control, we would just drive to a park or somewhere that the police wouldn’t get called on us and Al would be screaming and smashing stuff, a couple times I had to call the police or bring him to the police station!”

It may seem like he is simply a sweet young man that is so kindhearted, but the truth is, he cannot control his thoughts alone, he needs constant oversight, redirection and reminders to keep him safe and rational. To be honest, I was not prepared to be a stepdad to Al, he is so much more than I thought I was signing up for! I can honestly say I do not regret being his stepdad. Even after being insulted, punched and kicked… he is still my boy, and I love him.

And why did I title this post sweet romance? Simple, it’s not romance that blinded me of the role I was taking on, it wasn’t Jesse’s pure heart and loving smile… it wasn’t romance that kept me involved…. It was God giving me a new heart, a new reason in life, a “repurposing” if you will. Although Jess certainly played a role, and we are still very romantic, that’s all great but if that’s all it was? I can now honestly admit I would have turned tail and run for the hills like any other sane single man these days. I was “twitterpated”, sure, but it was going to take more than that! God gave me a new life, a second chance, a new beginning… so that makes three times I have been “born”, I guess. 

The days are long, but the years are short. 

Please follow this post as I detail how I became the stepdad to Al and Sam

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.

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.