It all started innocently. When Jacob was only 9 months old, he was playing with one of those donut stackers… you know, the colored rings that you stack on a peg starting from larger ring to smaller ring? Ours was a wooden peg with plastic rings. While trying to stack them, Jacob dropped one on our hardwood floor. It made a knocking sound and then spun around in a circle for a moment. He laughed like it was the best thing he had ever seen. He crawled over to the ring, picked it up and dropped it again; the beginning of a new game.  Little did we know at the time where that would lead us.

He went from spinning that little ring to spinning every circular object he could find, the shinier and louder, the better. It took us another nine months to learn what that meant. Our son is autistic. What we thought was an innocent game was something that was taking him further into himself and away from us. But we are fortunate. We found out early.

Here we are, almost four years later and Jacob has changed so much. The change didn’t come about easily. But we have been blessed to work with fabulous teams of people and, as this is Jacob’s last day of pre-school and we will be working with a new team next year, I feel this is the time to recognize all those that have helped him so far.

Our first team was with Infants and Toddlers through Montgomery County.  They worked tirelessly with Jacob for a year and a half, preparing him for the pre-school program. Jacob didn’t really speak until he was almost three years old but the ladies that got him started on that path were Miss Melissa (or, Miss Amissa, as Jacob called her once he began trying to say her name) and Miss Christy. Jacob called Miss Christy “open” because, she would come to our home to work with him and she always had a bag of toys with her to use. Before Jacob could play with them, he had to sign the word open. Then she would open her bag and give him a toy. Once he started speaking we told him to call her Miss Christy. But, every time she came to work with him, he would run to the door and look up at her with his big blue eyes and say, “open!”   Christy and I have since become very good friends and she has been to our house many times. It was a while before we could convince Jacob to call her Miss Christy instead of open. And, he always still looked for that bag of toys.

When Jacob turned three, he moved into the Montgomery County PEP program. I was so sad to leave the Infants and Toddlers team. I was terrified no one would work as well with Jacob or care as much about him. I was so wrong.

Over the last 3 years, there have been many loving, caring people working with Jacob. Miss Amanda, his first PEP teacher, helped Jacob find his voice. Miss Lizzie, his most recent teacher, helped him use it in ways we never dreamed possible. Other big players in this team were Miss Joy, his speech pathologist, and Miss Kateri, his Occupational Therapist, both helped guide him in social skills and social language. Miss Kate and Miss Marla, our Parent Educators, were there to guide us through any questions and concerns. I have felt more support from this team than I ever thought possible.

We are moving on to a new school next year. I am terrified, I will not lie. I have met the new teachers. They seem very nice.  But, they have some very, very big shoes to fill. So, ladies, thank you for all the support and love you have shown our Jacob. You are simply amazing women!

Last week, my husband and I drove our boys to Ravenna, Ohio to spend one last weekend in his mother’s house, the home where he grew up. This is the first chance I’ve gotten any real time on the computer but this is what I wrote while I was there…

I am sitting on my mother-in-law’s back porch swing for the last time. We have spent the day packing up a moving truck with items to take back to Maryland and we leave in the morning. The sky is clear and stars are very bright tonight and I can hear the train whistle blowing. Though I didn’t grow up in this house, I have heard enough stories that it makes me sad this is our last stay here. I wish my boys were just a bit older so they could have more memories of family gatherings here.

I’ve watched my husband’s face today and the myriad of emotions that have crossed there. I know this is difficult for him as I am sure it is for all of his siblings. I moved too many times as a kid to have any great attachment or memories to one house. So, while I can’t really relate, I can sympathize. But, I think it helped that we spent the day with his sister and niece yesterday, going through all the rooms and the shop. They did a lot of laughing together. It was a weekend full of love.

At one point, Jim was downstairs in the basement with our boys and I could hear him talking to them about him and his brothers spending time down there and all the silly things they did together. I listened to Jim and Regina talk about some corning ware they found and how it reminded them both of Friday night pizza. Again, it was a weekend full of love; love all those siblings have for each other.

Jim told me that his father said to him once, “I had always hoped you boys would take over the business and all live in the same neighborhood, watching all of your kids grow up together.”  I know there is a part of Jim that wishes that could have happened, too.  But, while they all moved on to other careers and many have moved out of state, it hasn’t kept them from being very close. I’m sure this would have made their father very happy.

In the living room of his childhood home, there are two pictures hanging on the wall. I never really noticed them before this weekend but, both pictures are of a path leading away to some unknown in the distance.  Earlier, as Jim and I were sitting in the living room with our boys, playing before bed, I pointed those pictures out to him. I told him, “Yes, your dad had a dream at one time that you would all live close together here in this little town. But, as I look at these pictures, I think they are kind of symbolic in that, I believe he came to realize that you are all living better lives than he ever imagined and that you couldn’t have done that here in Ravenna. I’m sure he is proud of all of you and the lives you lead and all you have all accomplished.”

No, our boys won’t really have many memories of Nonny’s house. But, we have already started making memories of family gatherings at Aunt Regina’s for them. We have celebrated many birthdays in the past couple of years and have another big celebration planned for this summer.  It doesn’t matter that they aren’t at 420 South Sycamore Street. Really, that’s just a house. It matters that they are with the wonderful family that grew up there.