Birth and Re-birth

Part 1- Birth of an adult 

I have not yet been able to write as much about Liberty and her momentous 18th birthday.  This year she asked for donations to add to our weekend food program that our school is a part of, Snack Shack.  Hunger among children is a real issue and we were very grateful for all of the donations, including many from other seniors in Libby's class! 

I challenged all of my students to ask for donations instead of gifts for one birthday. Any birthday. But just try on the idea of giving instead of receiving. 

I just couldn't do a huge celebration this year because I was overwhelmed and overcome with the reality of what this birthday means.   Libby is an adult and  with that everything medically and educationally changes. I am still responsible for all of her bills, but without the needed paper work, I have no say in her medical or educational care.   We have the appropriate paperwork and Libby alone has chosen to graduate this year and head off to college. 

This brings on another huge ordeal that I am still muddling through.   She wants to go to Amarillo College to study art. Okay. Who pushes her to class?  Who is her scribe? Who will her communication partner to ask and answer questions in class?  Who will give her pills?  Drinks of water? Potty schedule?   And a huge question is who pays for what?  

If I need to, I'll teach more. I'll clean houses. I'll do whatever it takes. But I have been through several meetings with agencies, who were created to ensure that people with special different-abilities, where I left feeling stupid. And worse, where I felt like I was crazy for asking for my kid to have help to reach her goals.  

The day before Libby's 18th I had three people ask me why I hadn't planned for her future. 

I was walking in faith that she'd make it to 18.   I had plans c-q covered in case she didn't.....

She had experimental surgery this past June and nothing is guaranteed. Doctors can't stop the degenerative part of her illness, the progressiveness of her dystonia, and her Parkinson's, so I wanted a successful year with her cohort senior class.  

At 8:30 am January 9, asking me why I didn't have her applied and registered was an eye opener.   I should have. I just couldn't have the day to rejoice. I had to beat myself up for not planning ahead. I had to allow Libby to choose to move to Amarillo  College or stay at the safer place of Caprock.    It is her choice. That's the scary side of raising kids-their choices.

While we wait for the agencies, who I will protect due to professional dignity, I have no next step.  I await phone calls. I await emails and snail mail. I await answers. If even the invite of more paperwork will mean that my child can continue on toward her goal safely- securely- and legally- I'm in. 

What happens if she is told no?  

She's already asked me if she gets to go to college; she's been promised that if her grades are good, she is in school with no discipline, she will be able to go- but what if it's been a lie?     I can't bear the thought of telling her that.  Her dreams will happen.  If there is any way I can make it so. 

At some point Libby will get to run and be as free as she can be.  That's my job and my promise to her. 

http://youtu.be/Lg01HyUMERM

Meanwhile, she has been accepted to AC, she has an average over 95%, modified graduation plan, and is involved in lots of community service and extracurricular services. 

And we have art competition, prom, pictures, invitations,celebrations and many other things to think of...$$$$$. 

Seniors are expensive and I love it. 

Celebrate and consider this. 

Re-birth 

Amongst all this has been the loss of my beloved Grandmother, Geneva May Farley Bumpus, January 24th, 2015.    Almost a month. Dang, wish I had time to feel this loss. Huge part of me is gone and I can't even think it through.  But I made her some promises, and I intend to keep them.