I just want to play with my friends

This week I went to a PAC (parent advisory council) meeting. Doug's school has a rather old playground, and the PAC has been fund raising for a while now for a new one. This meeting was to make a few decisions about what type of equipment to buy.

Seeing as Doug will be one of the users of this equipment, I went to the meeting to see what was planned.

Underneath the surface I had a slight feeling of apprehension. What do I do if the equipment they're looking at isn't "Doug friendly"? How big a priority is accessibility? The school playground is where many of the deepest friendships in your life are cemented. How many of us have friends from "way back" whose relationship has survived the fickle sands of time? All due to the hours of playing on the monkey bars, adventure playground and soccer fields. It's pretty important. On the other hand, who am I to hold hostage the selection of new equipment just because my ONE child can't use it? That isn't fair at all either. This stuff serves hundreds of other kids a year, and will long outlast Doug's time at school.

How can I strike a balance between making my point and being a team player? Do I really have to prepare myself to go into another battle on Doug's behalf? Don't get me wrong, I'll gladly do it - my trusty shield may be a little dented by now, but I'm still game.

It turns out that my worries were all for naught. The PAC has a Recreational Therapist (I hope I got that right) on board with the planning. She's been considering accessibility for all sorts of disabilities, and assisting in the planning to make something that is fun for everyone - including those who come with their own needs. The PAC members continually considered the accessibility angle, and demonstrated an extremely inclusive approach. It looks like I can sit this battle out. The enemy - if any - is outnumbered by friends of Doug here.

You can talk all you want about accessibility. Surface type, transition points, upper and lower body equipment, play paths, etc. But when it all comes down to it, I think I can succinctly voice my opinion on what type of equipment to get:

I just want Doug to be able to play with his friends.

A Time for Thanksgiving

Today, a friend of mine, a thinker, gave the sermon. It was his first, and he did a really good job in spite of what looked like a healthy case of the nerves. What he did for me was remind me of perspective. Ecclesiastes 3 has the famous passage about "for every thing, there is a season. A time for..." Another passage that sprung to my mind as he preached was 1 Thessalonians 5:18 "... in everything give thanks..."

On the one hand, there is a season for everything. A time to weep, and a time to laugh - and given today's date (Thanksgiving), a time to give thanks. So I've dedicated today's writing session to a challenge to myself. I'm going to write today about Thanksgiving. I'm going to attempt to capture ways that I am thankful for Doug's Muscular Dystrophy. Fasten your seat belts, I don't know where this will end up.

I am thankful for the people I have met on this journey. When you meet people who are going through, or have been through something like this, the emotional bonds you create with them are incredibly deep. A shared experience like this produces a connection that would otherwise take years and years to build.

I am thankful for my friends and family. They may not know it, but I draw deeply on their emotional and physical support. They meet needs both large and small without knowing it, and often without proper recognition or thanks.

I am thankful for the way I have experienced the generousity of strangers. Through Doug's needs, I have a renewed hope in the "spirit of mankind". "Religious" or not, God has built people with a inner desire to be charitable to each other. We don't see this everyday, as most of us have built walls up to hide behind. Give people an excuse though, and watch love and kindness flow out of the most unlikely people. Take a step back, and watch God coordinate the charity of many unrelated threads into a completed tapestry. I am thankful for being able to watch the the Master Weaver at work here. (Heck, did you see how many bikers showed up for the Vancouver Toy Run today in the cold rain?)

I am thankful for the slow progression of DMD. I get to wake up each day to a son who looks and acts very much like the day and week before. I am thankful that I don't yet have to lie awake at night wondering if I've hugged Doug for the last time.

I am thankful for the talented medical care that our much maligned system manages to provide. In spite of all of the complaining of the "broken system", we've managed to be cared for by an army of first rate "ists".

I am thankful for the way that I am now more in tune with the emotional hurts and needs of others. The only way you can empathize with others is to have experienced pain and sorrow yourself. I am no longer constrained to offer only sympathy. I feel I have been able to move from acquaintance to friend with a few people because of this. And I am richer for it.

I am thankful for the way that I am forced to admit on a daily basis that I don't have the strength to make it on my own. I'm not weaker than I was before, I'm just more honest with myself.

I am thankful for the brief glimpses into what is really important in life. Relationships and strength of character. All other things on earth are time limited, but my relationships with God and people, and the character I build while I am still breathing will last forever.

I am thankful for the kick in the pants that writing stuff down has been for me. I've never been a journaller, or a diary person. But I can recognize what a great tool it is for organizing your thoughts and emotions. And if my ramblings can lead even one person towards a deeper understanding of their own world, or supply a ray of hope in a dark world, what is not to be thankful for?

I cannot hear the phrase "well, at least you've got your health" anymore without a small lump in my throat. But I still can be thankful for things. Thankfulness doesn't have to be expressed with only a smile on your face. It is not an emotion - it is a mindset. Tears of pain and hurt can co-exist with thankfulness. And at my house, they do.

"In everything give thanks..." I think I understand the author a little bit better now. We are not instructed to be thankful for everything that happens to us - we are exhorted to be thankful in the midst of it. Bring on the turkey.