kariskhaos


“No, I got it”

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John, can I help you with that? “No, I got it” I would be happy to help you, I can make you a sandwich. “No, thanks, I got it” he says in his low voice. So I stand by and watch him struggle. I see his frustration, and I feel the tension. What would take me three minutes to do, and be done, takes him thirty. Hey John, can I type that up for you? I do it for your brother all the time, I would like to read what you have written anyway. “No, I got it.” he snarls at me. Two in the morning, he goes to bed, after doing all his homework, and he has finished his midnight snack. I lie awake, my heart aching to ease his burden.

I come home to find John eating a bagel with cream cheese and I ask how he is doing. “Fine, but this cream cheese must be bad, it does not taste right.” I look down to see that he has been slathering Crisco on his bagel not cream cheese. I tell him what he has done, and he just gets a sheepish grin and says “Well, it looked like cream cheese.” We are having salad with our dinner and he chooses Ranch dressing, half the bottle is now on his lettuce and looks around to see if any of us have caught this. Isaac steps right up and asks innocently “Hey John, want any salad to go with that dressing, or are you making a ski slope?” “Shut up Isaac, I was going to get more salad.”

I hear his low rumble of a laugh while we are on a road trip and turn to see what he is laughing about. No one is talking to him, he has his headphones on, and is listing to a book, laughing out loud at the narrative. I catch him in the kitchen listening to his rap music and he busts a move while washing the dishes, totally oblivious to the world. I run into the family room because I hear him yelling and I think something terrible is happening and he is just screaming at the game on TV. I knock on his door and get a grunt to come in, he is up on his bed listening to NPR.

As his parents Scott and I struggle to know how best to handle things with John. He is so independent, so fiercely stubborn, so adamant about his capability it can make us crazy at times. John’s lack of vision makes daily tasks seem monumental, and his work load unbearable. I often become the enemy, and the lash outs are strong. I cry for his vision, I cry for my lack of compassion at times of high stress, and I cry for an unfair world, in which our son can not see the way he should. Then I see him goofing off with his brothers and using that sharp, sarcastic sense of humor to make us laugh.

Anything I can do for you John? “No, I got it.” And you know what? He probably does.

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2 Comments so far
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Hey John – wishing you calmness & peace as you enter your latest high school year! Remember to breathe!!! Sending you lotsa love,
xoxox Aunt Jana

P.S. Kari, you made me cry!!

Comment by Jana

oh Jana, did not mean to make you cry, but thanks for loving us and supporting the journey!

Comment by Kari




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