Saturday, May 14, 2016

One year later

When I was in college I kept a journal. It was just a floppy disk with Corel WordPerfect files...arranged in folders named with the year, containing folders named with the months, containing files named with the date. I liked looking back at what I was doing on that date one year ago, and two years ago, mulling over what had changed in those 365 or 730 days, and wondering what I would be doing in another year.

Now that I've owned my phone for over one year I'm able to flip back in my phone's calendar and see what I was doing 365 days ago. On Wednesday I did just that as I was sitting in a rickety metal folding chair in a school gymnasium. On that date in 2015 I apparently didn't do much of anything of note...I had a meeting, and my husband had an evening shift at work. But even though I wasn't doing much I can tell you exactly what I was thinking...that I was sixteen days away from the school evaluation meeting that would determine whether my son had autism. That was all I ever thought about in May 2015, dreading the possibility that my kid may get chewed up by my district's special education system, and holding out hope that his IQ testing would yield good enough results to keep him in regular education despite any label he might acquire.

I had no idea that one trip around the sun later I would be sitting in that rickety chair, my son in the chair next to me, leaning on my shoulder, kicking his feet, waiting for orientation to start at my district's magnet school for gifted and talented students.

The orientation brought a mix of emotions. The kids at that school are impressive. Really impressive. I kind of wonder if my spacey, quirky kid will fit in. I worry about whether he'll be too frustrated when work finally challenges him. I cringe at the idea of paying the huge school fees this school requires and still not having find a peer group or make friends.

But I guess one thing this year has taught me is that on May 2017 I may be doing any number of things, but I won't be able to predict any of them. All I can do is hang on for the ride.