Heros

I just returned from a conference in LA.  I forgot how much I love the Omni in downtown LA.  They know how to do it.  Anyway, I left there, as I always do, from the work I do, feeling blessed that I get to do what I do and moved by the folks I meet.  The was a conference for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing.  They come together, families and professionals, to learn, share, grow and motivate.  I am always inspired by the parents who may be struggling with the fact that their child is deaf but who are soldiering on and learning and asking questions and trying to be the best parent they can be to help their child.  My last presentation I wrote was a panel of parents, five families represented, all who have children with moderate to severe hearing loss.  They spoke about their journeys, all very different, but all very interesting.  I admired their tenacity, their love for their children, and their devotion to "getting it right" for them.  One mother explained she comes from a culture where if something isn't understood, it's shunned.  She and her husband had no choice but to do what they needed to for their two of four children who are deaf.  They learned sign and they made the decision to get them cochlear implants.  They embraced the ASL culture, learned it themselves along with their children.  They embraced the CI (cochlear implant) culture and they shared their experience with their very own native culture.  One couple left everything they knew and loved and moved to the US just to give their child a chance of hearing better.  One mom tells the story of her daughter being in the car from sun up to sun down, traveling from school to speech therapy to a special tutor.  These are blue collar, hard-working families who never questioned "why" they were in this situation, but they dealt with it the best way they knew how, and it was pretty impressive. 
We all throw the word "hero" around.  These parents would not see themselves as heros, but I do.  These are days when after a lot of writing and tired hands, I still love what I do..........

Summer is halfway over, and I have yet to create a "list" for the dorm necessities that accompany moving the guys to their respective schools.  For CD2, this is his second year, a "better" space for living in, so he is excited!  He moved himself out, which saved us hundreds in travel fees.  I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little worried about going to the storage unit and finding that in the haste of his wanting the "move" to be done and to get to his plane to come home, things will be a strewn and packed less "neatly" than I would have done it, but alas, I am in the new mode of letting go of that kind of thing and "rolling" with it!  :)  Whatever I find, I will deal with, and with a few spendy items added to the already well-stocked dorm supply, he will be "good" and happy, I'm sure.  I confess, I love that his wall hangings include embracing his Irish heritage and a much wanted sign from one of his favorite shows, "SOA"!  Those are items that set him apart from the other guy living in the room, and I like that.  The big "deal"?  He gets to share a bathroom with only one dorm mate, rather than all 5!  :)
I confess, the list for my older guy is a bit more lengthy and a bit more confusing.  After he moved home from UOP, his stuff went into storage.  Then we took it out, repurposed it for CD2, and I don't think there is much left.  Trying to start over, but with perhaps a bit more discretion and discernment.  I think this time it will be a "team" effort (CD1 and me) regarding the "list" and what should be on it.  I am apprehensive and excited for this one.  I know he must have some fears, doing this again, and some anxiety, doing this again, but my prayer is that maturity and experience will show themselves to his dorm room and give him the wisdom and strength to give himself the best possible chance for the best possible outcome. Picture me in a cheerleading outfit with the letter "C" on it and my pom-poms shaking all over the place.  That is me, for him.  Oh, one more thing, my rosary in my skirt pocket, because I really need God to be "on call" for me at this point!  Go get 'em, Son.  I KNOW you have it in you.  Leave no doubt...........