I remember having to tell each of them, somewhere between the ages of six and eight, that Uncle Erik's brain worked differently and that his status as an adult wasn't as qualified as mine. This conversation usually came after one of the kids tried to get me to let Uncle Erik take them to the Dollar Store, or the movies or whatever thing that Uncle would say yes to that I would usually say no to.
Even with their close relationship I wondered what it would look like as my kids, his nieces and nephews, grew older. It wasn't just the growing older that concerned me. It was the fact that my kids would one day be surpassing his capabilities, moving beyond his developmental age.
Erik's life goals lined up with the kids up until about they were around 15 or 16. I expected a sense of loss but had hopes that there would always be a sweet spot in their relationship with Uncle.
What I was not expecting was Erik's crisis.
It was likely the perfect storm of medication issues, major life changes, and growing pains - emphasis on the pain. HIs behavior became erratic, even violent, and he could not be trusted around the kids alone.
It has taken a couple of years but Erik is more centered. He's still not the same - but his sweet personality is back on the surface, not buried beneath debilitating anxiety and anger. We've each had to take our own path in trusting him again. It was probably quickest with my parents and I because we've known him the longest. The kids and my husband, though, have needed more time.
It's been hard seeing that knowledge sweep across Erik's face when it's time to go home. He may be intellectually disabled but that doesn't mean he's not cognizant of the turmoil his actions caused. Erik is someone who always says, "God bless you" before he leaves, and when you're family (even by choice) he'll add an 'I love you' on the end.
About a year ago I noticed he wasn't telling the kids I love you anymore, and it wasn't because he didn't love them. I think it was because he feared they did not love him back.
Vulnerability is hard for each of us, no matter how are brains and bodies work.
Relationships cannot be forced. They can be tended, or left behind for a season, or pushed beyond their limits, but they cannot be forced.
Liam was the quickest to forgive and forget. He's at that magic age, eight, when nothing is complicated. Kiley and Laurel were next but it was hard-won. Erik had to purchase many Miley Cyrus trinkets at the Dollar Store to break the ice with them. He had laid a strong foundation with those girls, though, and they came around.
Spencer, on the other hand, had his heart-broken by his hero at a time when life seemed pretty crappy to him. We moved him from the 'best place on the planet' (Tell City, Indiana, by the way) and away from the family he felt he should have been born into (hello, Mundy's!). Uncle's terrible behavior must have seemed like a betrayal to Spencer.
Spencer is fourteen so being taciturn and moody comes fairly naturally, but he had some truly hurt feelings to deal with. Erik took it pretty well and would ride in the backseat, never ask to listen to country music, and skirted around Spencer while we were all home together.
I don't want Spencer to sound like the bad guy in this. Erik's behavior, for a couple of years, was terrible and unexpected. Spencer was on the receiving end of that behavior, and witnessed his grandmother's tears and my frustration, and this man-child of mine is fierce in his love for us. He just didn't understand that Erik truly was not in charge of himself during that time.
Fast forward to now and we have year of smooth sailing with Erik under our belts. There are still bumps in the road, to be sure, but overall it's 100 times better than I thought it would be. I feel like we have my brother mostly back, something I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to say.
My children, though, that's another story.
Hear me when I say this: we have great children, partly because they were born that way and partly because we put A LOT of work into parenting. But...we've noticed some slippage lately, especially with our youngest two.
It's not all bad , but I definitely have observed Spencer and Liam's entitlement being ramped up. When you've come through a major loss, or major changes, it's easy to say yes to many things that you would not have allowed in a previous life. It's also easier to ignore behaviors that would have previously would have been addressed. I call it Parenting from a Place of Pity.
We're not in a regular church so we don't have a lot of accountability or accessibility to mission projects. This isn't horrible, it just means we need to be intentional about serving others. And I do believe that serving others is the easy cure for entitlement.
Anyway, we pick Erik up on most Thursdays from his adult day program and drop him off at his fitness class a few blocks away. I love Latitude, the place where he is during the week. It's an artist community for adults with special needs and it's perfect. I just love the vibe there - I feel so loved when I walk in those doors!
So I told Spencer and Liam that we'd be spending an hour every week there, just hanging out and doing art.
You would have thought I'd signed them up to have their fingernails extracted. There was even a dramatic, "How could you do this to me?!?" yelled in my direction.
Well, after the third try we made it down there on time. This time everyone got out of the car and no one wore their hoodie up. Both boys were irritated with me and sure that they would be bored.
Everyone was at tables working on their art. Some of the artists recognize and immediately come up to get a hug or show me their work. I introduce the boys, who are immediately more popular than me. Spencer is by far the biggest hit. He is given high-five's and cheers for being 14. His grin was so real I almost cried.
On a side note, these guys always ask how old the kids are, and are always excited about having them there. When I tell them I'm 44 they are thoroughly unimpressed.
Anyway, because I am comfortable there my kids are, too. Erik gets us set up with paper and markers and we go to work. We chat with table mates and wander the room for inspiration. Erik himself doesn't engage with us much while we're there. He's busy doing all the things he does.
[caption id="attachment_1574" align="alignnone" width="747"]
Liam's artwork[/caption]When it's time to go there's no rushing. They're not dying to get out of there. Spencer carefully places his work-in-progress in his Uncle's cubby and Liam is sure to not leave his behind.
We get to the car and I notice that Spencer is in the back seat already. Uncle gets to ride up front. The car is filled with conversation about our pieces, what we'll do next time, and what oil pastels are. The boys think bringing lunch would be fun.
We quickly get to the community center where Erik's fitness class is. He gets dropped off at our house at 3, though, so he knows he'll see us soon. Still, he makes sure to leave his backpack and lunchbox in our car to secure a visit.
Erik steps out of the car, places his hand on his headrest and leans into the back.
"God bless you Spencer and Liam. Love you, Liam. Love you Spencer," he says.
Both boys tell him they love him, but for the first time in a long time I hear the love in Spencer's voice. I know it is true when he says it.
Erik lopes into the building and Spencer comes around to the front. I drive the car in the direction of home and we sit quietly in the happiness.
The colors of real love, the kind that makes you alive, swirl around us, filling the places of our hearts that had been left accidentally empty.
Just before he jumped out Liam declared that it wasn't so bad. He says he'll need oil pastels to take for next time. Spencer quietly wondered if he could bring a friend.
My grin is so real I almost cry.
Be brave, misfits. May you grin real grins sometime very soon.
[caption id="attachment_1576" align="alignnone" width="755"]
Erik worked with his friend Justin on this one. I told you he likes vacuum cleaners.[/caption]
