Today is Tabitha’s, 2nd Youngest (18), day for problems, and I think I just added to them.
She has had a wonderful opportunity to do volunteer work at Kanyana Wildlife Rehabilitation Centre. It is very hard to get into and the disability support groups are desperate for her to do well. She should do well. She loves animals, she handles them amazingly well, and she likes to help …. but ….
She hasn’t gone every week. The days she goes, everything is wonderful. She is bright and happy; joking around and really seems to look forward to going. The days she doesn’t go, she stops. She will shower but be unable to dress; she will stand in her room not moving, body all stiff and tight. She won’t talk or respond. She just starts silently crying. We don’t know why. Her therapist spent her last hour session trying to address this problem but they got no where. She doesn’t know why this happens, the therapist doesn’t know why and neither do we.
Which brings us to this morning and the mean parent. I hate being the mean parent. As my wife says it doesn’t suit me. She says (I didn’t have to ) it comes more natural to her and being mean is what she does best; but today was my turn.Tabitha was watching TV in her room and seemed happy after her shower. She had her work clothes on her bed ready to go. I thought, ‘Great she’s going to go today. Half an hour later still not dressed and now not moving. Not talking, just crying. She had to have some morning pills and with a carer in the house, I had to dress her to get her down the other end of her house. I tried to jolly her along while we got her work uniform on, and pushing her to get ready to go out, but I was certain she wasn’t going. She was getting more and more upset; and more and more closed off.
In the end, amazingly, she actually went. I was shocked. Not talking, not looking up and loping slowly along. Poor little thing.
“There is nothing that moves a loving father’s soul quite like his child’s cry.”
Joni Eareckson Tada
it’s worse when you cause those tears.