Time to Change Perspective?

Time heals all wounds…healing – I don’t think so. Time gives perspective, time gives acceptance, time helps, at least this time.

I have spent many days forcing myself into the crispness of the autumn that surrounds me; willing the breeze to take away the clutter that fills my mind…to clear the clouds that hang ever since we were given Alex’s “number”. We really should have known that this was a meeting of bad news, but blinded (for the first time), we went in with no forethought of what was to come. In retrospect, it’s strange that we didn’t see it coming since we saw most everything else that has come barreling down…digressing.

Photo By: Pete - Life is Good

In this forced cleansing of my mind, I’ve had time to digest what we were told. I’ve had time to note the change of leaves, the change of season, and the feel of the air, and to acknowledge that things are always changing. Isn’t the world around us only static, untouched for a moment before change arrives? I guess it was change in my perspective that I was looking for while I chilled my bones. Since Alex’s diagnosis at 9 months, things have been in a perpetual state of change. Change is always a fixture in our home, in our lives (which is a philosophical statement itself). I had forgotten that.

I recently have been able to acknowledge that Alex would be living with us for the rest of our lives. I already knew that Alex had profound global affects from the intrauterine stroke he suffered in the first trimester of pregnancy; I already knew that Alex was not going to develop cognitively as other boys his age. Did I still have some denial left? Was this just shocking news? Was it that someone put a definitive number on my child? Whatever it was, I was, well… changed. It was as if I had forgotten all that I already knew and was starting over again, trying to figure out what it all meant. A friend with a special needs daughter reminded me…it’s just a number. It’s not Alex. It doesn’t describe who he is, his smile, his laughter, his love of airplanes, it doesn’t describe him. It’s just a number. Remembering this helps. (Thank you).

My husband who, ironically, is the eternal pessimist and completely opposite of me, brought up good points and remained optimistic about this. Maybe it’s his denial…maybe just hope. I’ll go with hope.

Zach pointed out that in each of the areas that Alex was tested in, the school psychologist commented that she wasn’t truly sure if Alex didn’t know the answer, didn’t comprehend the directions or was just distracted. It’s the distracted portion we’re thinking of. We’re working on his ADHD, so a little more time will tell if the distractibility can be reduced thus making the possibility of his scores higher…out of the developmentally disabled category and back into the delayed category. But it is just a category, isn’t it? What if this doesn’t work? Will my perspective change again? Will I again go through a mini-grief cycle? I have absolutely no idea.

I do know that I will have to refer to this post to remind myself that change is always about us. I will have to refer here to remind myself that he is still Alex, still a sweet, kind-hearted, “magical” little man that can not be defined by a number. Regardless of the outcome for this or anything else in the future, I have to remain positive. I just have to be patient. I just have to give it a little time.

So yes, for me, this time, time gives perspective. Time gives acceptance. Time helps…I think. What do you think? When something’s come up in your life, has your perspective changed for the better, or worse when you’ve given it a little time? Is it time for you to digest, a change of perspective or both? Leave me a comment and let me know…

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