Sensory Overload

Yesterday afternoon Russ and I went to the cemetery to water Lynda's grass and worked a little on cleaning the headstones of my daddy, grandparents and uncle.  We've been doing a little each time we go over there.  We needed to go to Wal-Mart to get some hamburger meat to make spaghetti so Russ dropped me off at Dirt Cheap to just walk through while he braved Wal-Mart.

From the minute I walked in the store there were Halloween costumes that triggered memories of Lynda's costumes when she was a little girl.  Then a lavender blanket that looked exactly like the one she carried around like Linus.  One thing after another brought another memory which wasn't a bad thing but what I learned yesterday is I'm not ready for the sensory overload that comes with a visit to just about any type of store.

There was a scene from an NCIS that flashed scenes from Gibbs' past one right after another.  Some were pictures.  Some video clips.  They were random and fast and it was a simulation of his past flashing before him in a particularly dangerous situation.  There is also a video on YouTube that a young man with Asperger's has made to try and simulate how it feels to walk down the sidewalk in a city when a person has autism or Asperger's.  It shows how the colors are brighter, the sounds are louder and sounds that you and I might not pay any attention to are magnified for people on the spectrum.

I felt like I was in one of those videos.  By the time I walked to the back of the store, I was exhausted.  My mind was flashing memories as quickly as the television version I described.  It was just sensory overload.  I've experienced it before when I've gone in to stores in Tupelo a few weeks after Lynda's death but I always attributed it to just being so emotional so soon afterward.  I'd always end up in tears and headed for the front door.  Yesterday was a different kind of experience and it gave me a much better understanding of what our children with autism must experience multiple times a day.  By the time I walked to the back of the store and then immediately back to the front, I had vertigo and had to sit in the wheelchair at the front of the store while I waited for Russ.  I wasn't crying.  I wasn't really upset.  I realized I had just experienced sensory overload and it actually affected me in a physical way as well as an emotional one.  My brain has been racing through images and little video clips of memories for two months now so it's not a new experience but in those instances, I seemed to have more control over what was coming next and I could finish processing one before I was bombarded by another.

The mind can only process so much at a time.  There isn't any place that I go that I'm not reminded of Lynda and those memories are precious.  I've just learned from yesterday that I'm not ready for the stores like Dirt Cheap that have merchandise mixed all over the store.  In department stores, you know where the children's department is and you can avoid it or whatever else is a particular trigger for you at the time.  In other stores like Dirt Cheap (which I usually love) you don't have any warning of what you'll see next.  So you may encounter one memory trigger after another within a few steps of entering the store.  This was a huge revelation to me and I learned a lot from the experience.

One day I will be able to walk through the store and others without feeling I'm being emotionally assaulted but not now.  It's no big deal.  I don't have any need to shop anyway.  I was just trying to make myself get out and do something that involved something I thought would be mindless and some place in public  I could go by myself and feel there was no need to have Russ close at hand for security.  So, I've been there and done that.  I've added that experience to my understanding of how grief operates and I came out of it thinking  Wow, that was pretty intense.  No one ever told me about that one but I've been there and done that. 

The Game of Life

Eight weeks and August has turned into September and October is just around the corner.  Friday was Russ and my 21st wedding anniversary.  It was also still the day 8 weeks ago that one telephone call changed the course of Lynda's life.  Today is the one year anniversary of our sweet little Kada-Joy coming to live with us.  A rescue dog that had never been loved or cared for;  now thriving and healthy.  It is still the day that Lynda passed between this world and the next at 6:27 A.M.  I am beginning to be able to look at the good things that have happened through the years and happen to fall on a Friday or a Saturday.

Actually Lynda's entrance into Paradise, our 21st wedding anniversary and yes, even the one year anniversary date of when we rescued a little black Fo-Tzu ( Toy Fox Terrier and Shih-Tzu mix)....are causes for celebration.  Even though we celebrate  Lynda's transformation, we still miss her.  Still wish I had her snuggled in bed with me.  Wish we could go for walks and feel her patting us on the back and clapping because she loved being outdoors.

With two months I have moved through  the stages of grief although doing so is not final.  Things can happen at any time that will plunge me back into a phase of grief that I thought I had struggled with sufficiently and completed it and moved on.  Reminds me of a game board where you get a card to take two spaces back.  Life just keeps on dealing the cards and some days you get to advance toward the finish....and some days you keep getting all of the cards that require you to go back and do that part again.

At the end of two months I am advancing toward the finish more than I'm having to take multiple steps back.  That is an accomplishment.  No, it's a blessing that God has allowed me to process the grief and when it became more than I could bear He put the game board away and just sat and held me until I could play again.  That's the way God's love and grace is.  His timing is perfect.  His grace is sufficient.  His love endures forever and ever and in THIS game we already know that we're going to win no matter how many extra grief cards satan throws at us.

Today I choose to celebrate the big things as well as the little things.  I choose to think of Lynda as the winner of life's game and celebrating an eternity of being with Jesus.

Today is Our Anniversary

Today Russ and I have been married for 21 years.  We went to Ogunquit, Maine for our honeymoon and for several years went back to Maine, New Hampshire or Vermont for the beautiful fall foliage.  Many of the covered bridges were destroyed during the hurricanes and we haven't been back since then.  There are some beautiful places in New England, especially this time of the year.

Russ was with me every step of the way when my Daddy became sick back in 1999.  We raced to Booneville after he had experienced seizures on more than one occasion.  When he was moved to Tupelo on December 1st, he was there when the doctors told us that he had lung cancer and only a few months to live.

I watched him gently pick my Daddy up in his arms when Daddy had become what I called "my little Daddy".  He shaved his face with an electric razor because it was one of the only calming things for Daddy after the cancer had spread to the brain.  He lovingly took care of him and sat by his bedside with my Mother as Daddy drew his last breath because I was huddled in a corner in the room next door listening to his labored breathing and scared to see him die.  I had never experienced death before.

Last summer, Russ was with me again as we cleaned out and remodeled my mother's house so she could return to live there after her rehabilitation.  We were in and out of the hospital twice and I could not begin to even describe to you all of the things he did for her.  He spent the night in her room so I could get some sleep to try to help my fibromyalgia.  He installed a system for her to be able to let visitors in.  He installed a watering system for her flowers.  I couldn't have done it without him.  He supported me so I could support her.

When we received the call about Lynda being in the emergency room in Oxford, I had no doubt that he would be with me wherever God led us.  Russ has loved Lynda for 22 years.  He has gone to NMRC to bring her home to surprise me.  Lynda loved him, too.  In ICU, she recognized my voice and she recognized his.  Right after we took her of the vent and her hands were free, she patted his arm as he sat there next to her.  That was her way of saying "I love you" and I think in this case, "Good-bye."

Russ knows what is important to me.  He went into special education when we moved to Florida back in 2002 and has just earned a second masters degree, this time in dyslexia therapy.  This year for the first time ever, we teach at the same school.  Not only that but we teach in the same ROOM.

They built a wall and door down the middle of my classroom and now I have half with the kindergarten and first graders being resourced and he teaches the resource class for the second graders. (Inside the door/Russ's room) People stop in often and laugh and say "Man I love my husband or I love my wife but we couldn't teach together!"  LOL  Well, we've worked together in Boy Scouts and Cub Scouts, we've had a gift shop together.  We never run out of things to talk about regardless of how much we are together.  He really is my best friend and I thank God for him.  We think alike in special education and we both are willing to go way over and beyond what's expected to help a child.  It's an honor to teach with Russ.  He is a wonderful teacher and I'm seeing such amazing improvements in the students that he's doing dyslexia therapy with as well as the zillions of other things he teaches.

God has blessed us to be able to share our love for children with special needs.  He has blessed me with his love for my daughter with special needs, as well.  We have also parented my two sons and his son and daughter through the years.  They are all grown and married now.  We share six beautiful grandchildren.  Oh, and three furry children that were both his and my first dogs ever when we were already old, seven years ago.  The most important thing we share is our love for God and he has blessed us in more ways than I could even name or we could even imagine.

We'll get back to New England one day soon.  Even if we're at school on our anniversary, we're together and that's another one of God's blessings!  Happy Anniversary, love.

Grow Grass Grow....Ready!

When we moved into our present home, we had great plans to try and kill the weeds and have a beautiful lawn in the backyard like it was in the front.  Before we could do anything, the moles moved into the backyard and made the weeds a low priority item.  We tried all of the recommended remedies for eradicating moles with no luck so we just kind of gave up on the beautiful lawn idea.

Now we are seriously trying to GROW grass.  We have put bags and bags of good miracle grow topsoil.  We've encouraged the runners to run over into the new soil.  We've planted grass seeds and we water it every day by hand with a big water can.  We've gotten down on our hands and knees beside the area without grass to see if we see any of the little white threads that surface when the grass seed has germinated and is poking its head through the soil.  It has rained several times.  The slow nice rain that is just right.  I've even talked to the grass to encourage it to hurry and grow before the first frost comes to turn it brown for the winter.  We've added miracle grow to the water and as soon as we get home to Booneville we go right away to check it out.

We don't have green thumbs but this is a labor of love because we are trying to get grass to grow on Lynda's grave.  On her birthday we went and planted grass seeds and carefully covered them with new topsoil.  We used to do this when I taught pre-k in Florida.  A few weeks before Easter, we helped the kids plant grass seeds in a container and we watered it and watched it grow to three or four inches of soft, green grass that we would let the kids put one or two of their freshly dyed "real" Easter eggs into and take home.  It was always an exciting project as we watched the grass peep out of the warm soil and then begin to shoot up all over the little pot.

Now I'm kind of doing the same thing.  I've planted the grass and I'm checking it to see the first sprouts.  It isn't Easter but I'm reminded of  resurrection day every time I visit Lynda's grave.  Christ rose on the third day and He has promised those who have died before the rapture that they will be the first to rise to meet Him in the skies.  Resurrection is real.  It was real for Christ  and  it's real for all of those who belong to Him.

I'm going to go and check the grass again this afternoon and water it but if Christ wants to choose today for the rapture....there will be no need for graves or for grass.  Have some people I want to see give their lives to Christ so I hope they will hurry and do that.  I'm not sure there's a lot more time.  I'm can't wait for the rapture.  Ready to see Jesus.  Ready to see Lynda.  Just ready.

After writing this post and publishing it, we went to water the grass and there WAS grass all over the plot!  Tiny little tender green shoots all over the dark brown miracle grow soil.  We planted it on her birthday (September 21st) and five days later it's popping out!  I've never been a fan of grass.  You have to mow it and I'm allergic to freshly cut grass.  However, THIS GRASS I LOVE!

The Real Story Behind the Precious Picture

If you've been following Lynda's blog even a little, you've learned that Lynda was a very, very active little girl.  We have a lot of deceiving pictures of her that look like she was sitting still and posing.  Oh, my.  I wish I could show you how many rolls of film were used.  Just as a reference for all of you who have never had a camera that wasn't digital and a computer printer... before days of digital cameras, we used something called film that we could not see the pictures we had taken until we put the film (in a canister) into an envelope and sent it off to somewhere to be developed (made into a picture).  Then you paid someone to get your pictures back.  It took anywhere from a few days to a few weeks.  I know, I know....it was a flawed system.  LOL

This is kind of a behind the scenes if you've never experienced trying to take a picture of a very fast, very hyperactive child with autism.  It's much like trying to photograph a bag of marbles you've opened and dropped on the floor.  Just as the marbles hit the ground, you attempt to get a picture of them as they are all rolling in different directions.  Actually, I think that would be easier than trying to get a good picture of a child who does not want to have his picture made.  More often than not, it's because the child doesn't want to or can't sit still even for a few seconds.  Then there's all of the preparation that goes into making a picture.  Putting on the cute clothes.  Combing the hair.  Putting the cute clothes on again.  Standing in front of the child (but not so far that you can't catch her when she's plans to escape) and in our case clapping and singing "Happy Birthday" because Lynda would always clap and smile.  If you were lucky, the stars were all aligned and you were as quick as lightening....you'd snap the picture at just the right time at the end of "Happy Birthday tooooo (snap) you.  If not, same scenario again (and again).

I have so many pictures that "almost made the cut".  LOL  Actually rolls and rolls when trying to get the Raggedy Ann picture.  The end product looks like I said "Lynda, honey do you want Nana to make your picture in your cute costume?" and she jumped up into the rocking chair, arranged her dolls, and posed with her hands folded in her lap.  This couldn't be further from the truth.  In reality, I put that wig on a couple of thousand times.  I picked the dolls up from various places they had been thrown as Lynda said "DA".  Well, you get the idea.  I was a determined photographer, though.  Regardless of how many shots it took I was always hooked by the slot machine mentality that the next one was going to be the BIG one.  My perseverance paid off because had I not been determined to have pictures of this child regardless of what I had to do to get them....I would have only have pictures the back of her head or a blur as she ran quickly in the opposite direction. And I do have my share of those shots, as well!

Lynda's Idea of a Good Toy Didn't Come From the Toy Store

Ask any parent of a child with autism how easy it is to find a toy that their child will love to play with and almost always you'll get the same response...."Oh, my goodness we spend months trying to find a birthday gift she'll like or Christmas is so difficult because few toys hold his attention."  Parents want to be able to see their child's face light up with excitement when they rip off the wrapping paper of a gift.  Instead, most of the time the gift that was so carefully sought after and chosen is opened and the contents tossed to the side.  The child plays with the bubble wrap protecting the toy during shipping. The child may not even be interested in opening the gift that parents are holding their breath will be THE toy that is an instant hit.

When Lynda was young in the seventies and eighties there were no electronic toys that you pushed and they talked or did all of the amazing things they can do today.  Technology has certainly helped parents of children with autism find toys that will engage and entertain if for only minutes at a time.  Lynda's love was lining up things that were alike.  She loved plastic pots and pans to hold by the handles and turn up and down up close to her face.  She enjoyed having things in a milk crate and taking them out on a table or the floor and then putting them all back in the box and starting over.  She learned to enjoy some conventional toys like the see and say games that you pulled a cord and it made the sound of an animal. Other versions sang or made other sounds as you turned the big pointer and pulled the string.  Mostly she liked to create her own toys.

One Christmas after we moved back to Oxford (I think it was 1977) we decided that we were going to give Lynda a very unconventional toy.  I'm pretty sure this was the first time Santa had ever shopped at Avent Dairy in Oxford, Mississippi.  We went to the dairy and explained to them about Lynda and how she loved to play with empty milk jugs....the gallon size.  We asked them if we could buy 50 or 75 new ones without the tops (which could have been a choking hazard).  They were gracious and intrigued with the fact that our child would love to get milk jugs for Christmas.  It's been almost 40 years so I don't remember for sure but I don't think they even charged us when they knew why we wanted them.  Now 50 or 75 gallon size milk jugs take up quite a bit of space and we had to transport everything to Florence, Alabama and Booneville, Mississippi to have Christmas with the grandparents. 
We drove to Florence to spend a day or two before we  went to Booneville for Christmas Eve dinner and opening gifts on Christmas morning.  Then we'd go back to Florence the next morning to have brunch with family friends.  We drove back to Booneville for Christmas dinner....well, you get the picture so you understand how surprised we were to get to Booneville Christmas Eve to remember we'd left the milk jugs in Florence.  Larry drove back to Florence Christmas Eve and arrived back in time to put (some) of them out under the tree for Santa. The next morning Lynda  was as excited about them as we'd hoped she'd be.  When we got back to her room at home, we put all of them in her room.  It was kind of like one of the ball baths.  She lined them up.  She sat on some of them.  She thoroughly enjoyed them until they were smushed and almost flat.  I don't think I've seen a single picture of them and I know we took pictures of the unusual Christmas gift Santa brought Lynda from Avent Dairy.  We have boxes of pictures yet to go through.  Hopefully I'll find some pictures of the plastic extravaganza but whether they surface of not I will never forget the sweet expression on Lynda's face when she saw what Santa had brought her.  Children with autism think outside the box.  They teach their parents to do the same.

Happy Birthday, Lynda

                 (This was Lynda's 4th Birthday and the first one with us )

Today is September 21st and would have been Lynda's 42nd birthday. It is also the seventh week since she went to be with Jesus.  When Lynda came to live with us in 1975, we were told that her birthday was September 28th.  All of the records we had from the social workers and medical profession.... everything said September 28, 1971 was her birthday.  Of course, we celebrated it on the 28th.  We did that until we were in the process of legally adopting Lynda in December, 1977 and the attorney got a copy of her original birth certificate.  You can imagine how surprised we were to learn that she had actually been born on September 21, 1971.  Her own parents and family had passed on the wrong information for something as fundamental and memorable as the birth of their first child.

It was strange to make the change from September 28th to September 21st.  I know more than a few times I told doctors or other people who asked me Lynda's birthday, September 28th, no September 21st.  They probably thought I was the most absent minded mother ever to not know my own child's birthday.

Of course this wasn't as bad as the time I first took Lynda to the doctor's office and they asked me what her Daddy's name was and I said I didn't know.  I was pretty busy trying to keep Lynda in the doctor's office without her disassembling all of the furniture.  I had noticed the receptionist had kind of looked at me funny when I said I didn't know her daddy's name but I had to turn immediately and retrieve Lynda.  When I sat down with her and did a rewind on the previous conversation, it occurred to me what the receptionist must have thought.  I was quick to go back and explain that Lynda was a foster child and I was soon on the phone to child services to find out Lynda's biological father's name.

I have wonderful birthday memories of Lynda whether we celebrated on September 21st or the 28th.  Lynda loved the song Happy Birthday so every day usually had a rendition or two of the song complete with clapping.  Enjoy your first birthday in heaven, Lynda.  I know that all of the angels are clapping for you and Jesus is holding you close to His heart as I am.

 Happy Birthday!!!                                  

One Day

One day it will be Sunday and then I'll remember that I didn't remember that Friday was the day that we were given the grim news that Lynda had a huge tumor that most certainly was cancer in addition to the pneumonia, acute respiratory distress and a host of other problems.

One day I'll go through a whole Friday without reliving every hour.  We got the news at....   We took her off life support at....   We moved up to hospice at ....

One day I will go a whole Saturday and not remember that at 6:27 she left my side and was in the arms of Jesus.    One day.   It just isn't going to be this Friday or this Saturday.

This Saturday is September 21st and it is Lynda's birthday.  Her first birthday in Paradise.  I am so excited for her.  I don't know if anyone in Paradise continues to think about birthdays.  I expect they celebrate the day they saw Jesus and every day thereafter is like a birthday celebration and like no celebration we humans have ever experienced.   I know that it will be the first birthday that she has had the ability to know and recognize and communicate with people.  We know that is happening in Paradise because the Bible tells us the story of Lazarus in Paradise and the rich man in hell begging for Lazarus to dip his finger into water.  Abraham explained that while they could see each other there was a barrier between the two that no one could pass from one to the other. They knew each other.  They recognized each other even before they had their new resurrected bodies.

It just gives me chills to think about Lynda opening her eyes in the arms of Jesus and being able to talk and understand all He says to her.  To be able to recognize and talk to her Daddy and her Granddaddy Anderson.  I just can't imagine how different Lynda is on this birthday than any other she has ever had.  There is peace and no pain.  Every year when she was little we had a theme for her birthday.  The first one was a kitty cake because Lynda could say "kitty kitty".  One had a train on it because she said "Choo Choo".  When she was older we had a clown come to her party at Scott Center.

This year's theme is Paradise and the celebration will last an eternity. 

Come Give Me a Kiss

I was sitting here thinking about how much Lynda resisted having anyone touch her or hug her when she first came to live with us.  We did it anyway the same way you give your child medicine when they're sick even when they don't like it.

After a few months, there was less resistance.  I used to look at parents holding their young children in the grocery store.  The little one was resting their head on their mother's shoulder with an arm wrapped around their neck.  Total relaxation instead of the stiff body response we got when we hugged Lynda.  I longed for that and the first time that Lynda hugged us back I was over the moon!  She loved hugs and kisses both giving and receiving.  She made a sound when she hugged.  It was really cute.  I looked forward to the day she let us hug her.  I memorized the way her body felt as I held her.  I did the same with each of my babies.  You know those positions where little babies are on your shoulder with their bottoms up in the air....nuzzled next to your neck.  That baby smell.   The soft breathing.  With a hyperactive child who seldom slept to have her fall asleep in my arms meant I was NOT going to put her down for fear of waking her up.  I also relished every minute I could have her little body next to mine.

After about six months or so we found that when she ran ahead of us on the sidewalk, we could say "Lynda, come give me a kiss" and she would stop and run back to us and give us a kiss.  It never failed.  I can still see her grinning from ear to ear and that white hair blowing in the breeze as she ran back to us and gave us a hug AND a kiss.

Memories are similar to a slide show flashing one after another.  This one is one that makes me smile.  If I close my eyes and listen really closely....I can almost hear her say "Unh Unh" and feel those sweet hugs.  Even after she had the stroke she patted our backs when we were walking together.  In the hospital she patted our arms when all of the tubes and restraints allowed her hands to be free.  Love doesn't have to have words.  Lynda showed her love with a touch to both Russ and me right before we moved to hospice.  Look at that sweet hand giving Russ a pat.  Just incredible. Love never fails.

Our Sweet North Pontotoc Elementary Family

This has been a difficult week.  My brain hasn't seemed to function very well and to concentrate takes all of the energy I can muster.  This afternoon a knock at our door at school and someone delivered a blue bag with a note from the North Pontotoc Elementary Staff.  This is the Willow Tree votive candle holder they gave us.  Inside the top of the piece it says "Keeping you close in our thoughts".

The little girl holding the seashell is perfect since Lynda was born in south Alabama and was often at the beaches in Pensacola, Destin and Ft. Walton Beach.  She loved the water.  I even filled up the flower pot of artificial mums with white white sand from Destin because she loved the sand so much.  And yes, we always keep a big bag of Destin sand in our garage.  LOL  Actually we had brought it to make sand trays for our students to trace letters of the alphabet in.

Tomorrow marks the seventh week since we were told the prognosis and moved Lynda up to hospice.  She passed away early the next day on a Saturday morning,  This Saturday is her birthday.  In seven more weeks she would have been 42.

Thank you North Pontotoc Elementary staff.  You cannot know how much we appreciate the hugs, the comments about following Lynda's blog and just understanding that this is a road we have never traveled and appreciate the friendly faces along the way.

Earrings and a Kindergartener

It's such a simple thing ---but today six and a half weeks after Lynda passed away, I looked at a pair of earrings that were on my dresser and thought, "I think I'll wear these today."

Unless you have suffered from depression or fibromyalgia or some other stress related problem you may not have experienced the feeling of walking with concrete feet.  For the first few days after Lynda's death, I was just happy when I could take a shower (as I'm sure Russ was too).  It was as exhausting as running a marathon though.  I ate because Russ brought me food and said I needed to eat so I did.

Getting up and going out of the house was another strenuous exercise.  Going back to work meant I had to combine several of those activities at once.  By noon the first weeks I was so tired I could barely move.

Each week has gotten a little easier but the world in no way stood still for us so the bills kept coming, the trips to the doctors' offices kept being necessary and life went on.  I have been pleased to get to school and find I had my school t-shirt on right side out and wearing the front on my front.  I have worn one black sandal and one dark blue one out one night but anyone could make that mistake.  I tried to always wear make-up to cover up the swollen eyes and tired, tired face but that was it.  Oh, a little lipstick to prove to everyone I was still alive.

So when I saw the earrings, I thought I'm going to wear these earrings today and no one is going to notice but it's going to be my personal accomplishment to do something that I haven't done in months.  When I got to school, my first group of students were my kindergarten students.  One little girl looked at me immediately upon sitting at our table and said "Mrs. Lamb.  You look beautiful today."  I said "Oh, thank you--you must have noticed my earrings.  She looked at me another minute and said "Mrs. Lamb, do you wear make-up?"  I said "Well, just a little."  She said "Oh, your eyes?" and I had forgotten I'd also put a little eye liner on since I was being so adventuresome.

I was just amazed.  This little five year old girl that I see day in and day out had immediately noticed two things different--two small silver earrings and a little bit of eye liner on my usually swollen eyes.  For this effort, she had declared me beautiful.  Tomorrow, I'll probably wear earrings again.  Who knows---I might even use blush.  Goodness knows I could use a little color in these cheeks.

When you're grieving life seems to go in slow-mo and the effort required to do the simplest of tasks is exhausting due to the amount of energy it takes to have to think about things that we used to be able to do while multi-tasking several jobs.  I think this just the way our bodies and minds operate when they are under stress and need life simplified.

You may have completed a complex multi-level project today and  you might have even worn earrings.  I dropped the complex project and just aimed for the earrings....oh, and a little eye liner. 

Always in My Heart

Willow Tree "Always".  I saw this and the artist has certainly captured the way all of us who have lost a loved one feel. Russ bought it for me and I have it next to my bed.  We will always have that person in our heart.  I know for me the little sculpture just captured the feeling I have of keeping Lynda in my heart forever.  The figure (that I call a Mom) is not just holding a heart.  She is clutching the heart with her whole body.  From some views, it's almost like she has wrapped her whole body around her heart as if to protect the memories.

That is my feeling right now.  I want to just wrap my body around all of the memories that I have of Lynda and protect them all.  I don't want to forget a single thing.  I know that Lynda will be in my heart right up until the day I see her again in heaven.  Then I will hold her just like this little figurine mom is clutching the heart.  I'll spend eternity loving on her and getting to know her in a way I've never been able to do before.  Right now I know Jesus is holding Lynda just as the mom is holding the heart in her arms.  Jesus has loved Lynda since before the beginning of time.  It is staggering to think of the love He has for us that He would leave heaven and come to earth.  Imagine giving up heaven to become a human and be tortured on a cross. The perfect one took on  the world's sins so that we could live with Him in heaven for eternity.

He made it possible for me to live with Him forever and for me to see the loved ones that have gone before me.  My heart holds my memories of Lynda and Jesus holds my heart. 

Happy Birthday to Lynda's Little Brother, Kevin!

Today is Lynda's baby brother Kevin's birthday.  He's 34 today.  When Kevin was born on September 17th, Lynda celebrated her 8th birthday on September 21st.  Lynda had lived with us since January, 1975 and the night that Kevin was born was the first time she had ever spent the night away from us.  The staff at the Oxford Child Development Center (now Scott Center) were truly like a family to us.  Carla Hopkins who was the director at that time kept Lynda for us.  Because of her severe seizures having her spend the night away from Larry and me was stressful but knowing she was in the hands of someone who knew her and we trusted was priceless.  I think everyone on staff pitched in to help at some point.  It was especially hard to leave her overnight even to deliver her baby brother.  God provided as He always does.

Kevin became a recreational therapist and worded at NMRC for about seven years before he and Nicole married and he moved to Olive Branch.  That was another blessing for us to have Kevin working there with Lynda for so many years.  Kevin has grown into a man that a parent can be very proud of.  He is married and has a son and daughter.  He is now working toward becoming a nurse.

I think Lynda has influenced many of our decisions in careers.  I know she certainly did for me and later for Russ.  Lynda was blessed to have two good brothers, Kevin and Kris who loved her and were able to be there when she was sick.  God is good all the time!

No More Bench

Well, today started off with a telephone call from the lady who takes care of the Booneville Cemetery telling us that we aren't able to have a bench at the grave although there are others there.  Apparently they passed that rule in 1991 because it made it difficult to mow.  We put Lynda's where one leg was locked down but the others weren't so it could be moved around but we had no idea that benches were now banned.  How would we know these things?  We haven't ever been given a copy of the rules although I'm sure we'll get one tonight.  It's hard to look at that cemetery and all of the strange structures and imagine that there is a set of rules but apparently...there are.  So, it was nice for the two nights we had it.  I guess I'll take it home and make a Lynda corner in my backyard under the tree with the white lights.

Lynda's Bench

We bought this pale yellow metal bench two summers ago.  It was the last one they had and I was just drawn to it...not because I needed it but it just looked kind of retro.  I debated with myself about whether to get it or not.  Russ finally said "Get it.  It's really different and I like it".  So we bought it.  We put it into the storage building and we talked about putting it together several times but something always took priority over putting it together.  Even then God knew what the little yellow bench would be used for.

After visiting Lynda's grave several times and sitting on the edge of the family tombstone, I decided that I needed a place to sit and remembered the little bench.  We took it out to the cemetery and Russ put it together there.  He put in a corkscrew stake intended to attach a rope for dogs and locked it to one of the legs of the bench.  It's just to keep honest people honest.  If someone wants to steal it, they can easily do so.  I just hope no one does.

It's a great place to sit and watch the sun go down in the western sky and think about the fact that Lynda is with the God who painted the beautiful sky with vibrant oranges and pinks against a beautiful blue and aqua background.  I used to wonder why people went to the cemetery every day after a loved one passed away when that person wasn't there.  I don't know about other people but I know that for me there is peace when I go there.

I look at the grave and I praise God for Lynda.  I thank Jesus for securing my place in heaven on the cross by taking my sins as if they were His own.  I have a promise that I will see Lynda again.  When I visit her grave and sit on her bench, I think about the good times and sometimes there are tears because the earthly relationship is over.  However sitting beside her grave and knowing it holds her body but not her soul is cause for worship and praise.  When I get up from the little yellow bench I walk away knowing that this is a place I can continue to take care of in Lynda's honor.  It gives me something to do.  I know that Lynda is in the arms of Jesus and when Jesus comes again....she'll be among the first to join him, resurrected body and soul united in the beautiful sky. 

It's Beginning to Look and Feel Like Fall

As we hung the things on the angel wings stand today I told Russ that Lynda would have had that disassembled quicker than he could put it up.  LOL  When she was little, bulletin boards were never safe when Lynda was around.  After Jan Reynolds had spent hours creating these beautiful bulletin boards or doors...Lynda would disassemble them in a blink of an eye.  If she had happened up on this arrangement when she was four or five, I have a pretty good idea what she would have done. 

The hanging things would have been taken off and put by the flowers on the ground.  Then she would have sat down by them and turned them and rearranged them and entertained herself with them for a good while.  She would have noticed that I had put white Florida sand in the pot of yellow mums and that would have been fun to play with too.  If she had been there long though she would have taken the arrangements off of the other monuments and added them to her growing collection.  Lynda was very obsessive compulsive about having everything lined up or arranged.  When we took her to the beach she would get a bucket of sand, then notice more sand and get another bucket of sand.  After a few minutes we realized that she was trying to put all of the sand on the beach into one pile and it was frustrating the heck out of her because she couldn't do it.  After a few minutes we realized what she was trying to do and just went inside.  A sandbox full of sand worked great.  A beach that had sand as far as you could see was more than she could wrap her mind around.  Of course, I kind of feel the same way about the beach.  It is just more than my human mind can process.  When I think about how beautiful God has made this world, I'm also aware that this is just a pale comparison to what He has waiting for us. 




 

4 LTS....For Lynda Taylor Smith

Florida has such a great design for their STOP CHILD ABUSE tag.  While we lived there for five years, this was our tag.  4 LTS...which stood for Four Lynda Taylor Smith.  I taught pre-kindergarden developmentally delayed students at Eglin Air Force Base.  This was very much a military community.  Often I was asked if I had four lieutenants in the Air Force.  For a couple of minutes I was puzzled because I temporarily forgot where I was.  Then I understood why someone would ask that question.

I have an autism tag in Mississippi.  Lynda's child abuse has never been far from my thoughts.  We as a state, a nation and the world have to treat our children as the treasures they are.  Politicians talk about how our children are our future but continue to cut funds for education.  Our model for child welfare is broken leaving far too many children falling through the cracks.  Foster children in the United States are turned out on the streets at age 18 with no back-up system.  Children adopted can be re-homed in an underground system of child predators and mentally unstable adults who have lost the privilege of parenting their own children.  Child trafficking is as prevalent in the United States as other countries and we continue to pretend that the United States is the home of the brave and the land of the free.  Not if you are a child.  As a child you  are dependent on adults to protect you and even when they try as we did for Lynda it still can  happen.  Can you imagine the children who have no one to advocate for them and suffer daily?

Research shows that children with special needs are one of the largest groups of children to be abused in schools.  Those with behavior problems and are hyperactive as Lynda was are prime targets.  You can be a protector of children in your care and those you encounter in your community.  It is the law to report any suspected child abuse.  You do not have to prove it but you are legally bound to report anything that you know about.  It's not a choice of whether you want to get involved or not.  It's the law.  Think about yourself as a child.  Think about being abused.  What would you want someone to do for you?

In every incident of abuse with Lynda someone saw what was happening but chose not to get involved.  Someone could have stopped the abuse of Lynda as a young child when she lived with her biological family in Brewton, Alabama.  Someone could have stopped the abuse at the South Panola County Child Development Center in Batesville, Mississippi and someone could have stopped the abuse at Millcreek Rehabilitation Center in Magee, Mississippi.  Lynda's future could have been very different had someone been willing to stand up for her.  Don't turn away from suspected child abuse.  A child's future may very well hinge on whether you report it or walk away.

Do it for Lynda Taylor Smith.

Six Weeks and Still Counting

This has been a good week.  Physically my fibromyalgia has been brutal but my heart has been at peace since I wrote the post Grieving For Our Two Lyndas.  It was a difficult to put such intense feelings into words but after writing about it I felt empowered.  Another revelation I've had this week is that while I've always wanted to write about Lynda, I couldn't go back to the places I'd have to visit.  I'd start  writing and then stop.  Now, there is an urgency to put her story down in writing so she won't be forgotten.  There are stories that no one knows first hand besides me.  Larry passed away and neither Kevin or Kristopher were born or old enough during the first ten or eleven years of Lynda's life to know what happened to their sister unless I've told them.  Russ knows what I've told him and my mother only remembers the main events...not the details.

Some of the things that happened no one knows except me and it is important to me to tell Lynda's story and to be her voice once again.  Maybe her story will help someone else feel powerful enough to advocate for their special needs child.  Maybe her story will give another parent insight into what to look for if they suspect their child is being abused or neglected in a school setting or any other setting.

I had made it all the way to Friday of this week without really having anything trigger the overwhelming loss that is always just below the surface.  When we got home to Booneville we checked the mail and had a letter from NMRC.  There was a check from reimbursement for things that had been pre-paid for the week she was in the hospital and beyond.  It wasn't a lot of money but it was within a few dollars of the amount of the remaining half of the cost of her headstone.   As I walked into the bank to cash the check I was fighting a battle inside myself to stay calm.  When the teller started to hand me the money I felt the tears coming and I turned and rushed to the front door.  Russ retrieved the money and I sobbed because that was money that would have been used for Lynda to get cokes and chips at NMRC.  It was money I usually used at this time of the year to buy fall clothes for her.  It was trip money at NMRC.  Clients receiving Medicaid funding for care such as NMRC or nursing homes are only able to receive $35 a month to be used as they wish.  When Larry passed away all of the social security money that would have gone to Lynda went toward her NMRC costs.

This check caught me off guard and for a few minutes I struggled to regain my balance.  Then I had to smile when I realized that this check that was almost exactly identical to what the remaining cost of the stone was and a direct answer to prayers.  We have had no idea how we are going to pay for the funeral, her headstone, the flowers we'd like to put at the grave...but God knows.  It is one of life's ironies that children and adults with special needs receive medicaid and social security income for their care throughout their lives yet when they pass away....there is no money available to help pay for their funerals.  These children cannot qualify for life insurance due to their conditions.  They do not even qualify for the ridiculous $200 and some $65 or so that Social Security pays toward a funeral that costs upwards of $7,000 at a minimum.  They don't qualify because they haven't the prescribed units of work experience needed to get the death benefit which by-the-way has never been increased since social security's conception back in the 1930's, I believe.  It is just more salt in the wound, so to speak.  Money can't be left to children with special needs because all income has to go to the entity that is caring for them (nursing homes and institutions) so it makes it pretty difficult for the average parent to pay for a funeral unless it is pre-planned and pre-paid which we are seeing the benefits of now.  If I couldn't take the money out of the hand of the teller Friday do you suppose I could have pre-planned a funeral for my child and payed toward it each month?  I think we're lucky that Coleman's Funeral Home is willing to accept a payment plan for the remaining costs.  I know that when we complete the payments for Lynda's funeral we are going to pre-plan and pay for ours so our kids don't have to be burdened with it.  As for Lynda's...I don't think I could have done it before she died.  It's hard enough to do it afterward.  We've almost paid for it all with God's help and what a privilege it has been to do this for Lynda.  What a blessing it has been to watch how God provides for our needs.

Grieving For Our Two Lyndas

Between the fourth and fifth weeks after Lynda died it seemed that my grief was becoming deeper and I found myself thinking more and more about Lynda when she was a little girl.  I know part of that was because I was going through all of the pictures of her to use for visitation and her service but I wasn't prepared for the reactions that I was having.  I went back to the doctor.  I tried to rest as much as I could but my mind would keep going back to Lynda before she went to Millcreek Rehabilitation Center in Magee, Mississippi.  Lynda before she was abused at Millcreek.  Lynda before she suffered a grand mal seizure that no one noticed until it was too late.  Lynda before the stroke that literally wiped out all of the skills and memories she had from the previous ten years of her life along with her ability to walk, use the right side of her body or even swallow in the beginning.

Lynda at 9 years old before going to Millcreek

Lynda at 40 years old after a stroke affecting right side

I struggled with all of the "what if's" and then one day it hit me.  I was grieving for the loss of two children at once.  I had never allowed myself to dwell on the changes that happened to Lynda after Millcreek.  Larry and I had decided from the beginning that we were not going to sue even though we had a pretty open and shut case.  Lynda was still critically injured and needed all of our attention.  We didn't want to spend years in legal battles.  When we picked up Lynda's things from Millcreek we met with all who worked with Lynda in one large room.  They were all expecting us to announce that we would be bringing a lawsuit against the facility.  Instead I told them that they knew what they had done to Lynda was wrong.  They knew they were guilty and one day they would have to answer to God for the abuse and neglect (she didn't have any seizure medications in her blood when tested after the stroke) and then I left and tried to never look back.

I couldn't look back because it was too painful.  I couldn't look back because I had a daughter who was more disabled  than when we had sought respite care for her on September, 2 1981 and we had a young son, as well.  I didn't look back because I felt blessed that we had Lynda at all.  It would benefit no one for me to look at what she could do before and what she was not able to do as a result of the stroke.  In our minds, I think we just dealt with it as having two Lyndas.  There was the Lynda prior to January 23, 1982 and the Lynda that we loved from January 23, 1982 until August 3, 2013.  It was the death of the "second Lynda" that brought me to my knees in grief over the "first Lynda" that I had never fully grieved for.  It truly was like having one child die in 1982 at the age of ten at the hands of multiple abusive people and then having another child pass away 31 years later.

The pain that I'd buried after Lynda's abuse and stroke was as raw as it was 31 years ago.  I allowed myself to think about her sweet voice and the things she was able to do before the stroke.  I blamed myself for sending her to Millcreek although my rational side knew even through the grief that I had done everything possible to find the best possible temporary care for Lynda at a time in our lives that we needed help.  I allowed myself to process the "what if's" and I looked through my eyes of  25 years of experience working with children with autism  and allowed myself to imagine what she might have been like as she grew up had our paths not crossed with Millcreek.  I didn't want to think about these things but I had to.  As long as I had Lynda, I didn't mourn the child we had lost because of the stroke.  When I found myself with neither version of the child we adored I had no other choice but to mourn her loss from the beginning to the end.

When God finally allowed me to realize what was going on in my mind it really helped me to process my feelings.  I had compartmentalized emotions for so many years to be able to continue taking care of Lynda.  I will always be Lynda's Nana and she will always be in my heart.  I will take with me memories of her first day as our daughter in Brewton, Alabama and all of the memories right up until her last minute on earth in hospice in Oxford, Mississippi.  Some of the memories that come flooding back are bittersweet but I am thankful for the journey with Lynda through all of the years.  I'm going to be okay but I'm not there yet.  It's hard to process almost 40 years of a mother's memories....the good ones along with the bad ones.  The happy ones with the sad ones.  The range of emotions that surface from a single picture or the sound of her voice on the tape I found.  I've chosen through the years to be Lynda's voice and to treat her as I would want someone to treat me if I was in similar circumstances.  I've also chosen to not waste energy on hating the people who have abused Lynda during her lifetime.  What satan meant as evil....God used it to His glory.  Lynda has eternal life with God while satan will soon be banished to darkness and eternal damnation.  Now that just makes me want to shout!  So glad God has already told us how the story ends!

More Information About Lynda's Stroke To Better Understand the Story:  Lynda was extremely hyperactive and had some behaviors such as biting after the abuse she suffered at the child development center in Batesville a year or so earlier.  When she went to Millcreek the doctors and nurses were told NOT to give her any medications for hyperactivity for two major reasons:  1) we had tried them all and none worked  2) the medications lowered the effectiveness of her seizure medications---We were not able to visit for the first month while she was there.  In November, we could take her out on a day trip.  We noticed that day that her hair was thinning but no one at Millcreek had any idea why.  In December, we were able to take her home for Christmas break and her hair was really thin.  Again, no one knew why.  I began to suspect that there was some abuse going on and asked our friend Rims Barbour from the Children's Defense Fund in Jackson, MS to send someone in that Millcreek wouldn't recognize to check on Lynda.  The person reported back to Rims that Lynda appeared "drugged" and wasn't moving around much.  Rims reported this back to us and also the information that while he was on the floor at the state capitol, he heard Lynda's name mentioned by our representative who had helped us secure a developmental disabilities grant for funding since Millcreek was a private institution.  He was talking to another person saying that Millcreek couldn't handle Lynda and were going to call us the following week to come and get her.  We were incredulous that our daughter was being discussed on the floor of the state capitol and began making plans to go and pick her up.  We had a huge ice storm that year around Jackson and the day that it was clear enough to drive we received a call saying Lynda had had a seizure and was in the hospital in Magee.  We left going down to Magee, Mississippi thinking it was one of her usual seizures.  We were not prepared for what we found.  We were told she had had a seizure in the middle of the night and wasn't found until the morning (they were supposed to check on her every hour).  They called the nurse at home (they had been told to transport to the ER immediately) who came to the center, took her temp which was 106 and then...only then did they transport her to the emergency room.  By then, it was too late.  She suffered a stroke affecting the right side of her body although the doctors didn't think she had anything wrong with her but a lot of medicine to stop the seizure.  We later found that her blood levels showed no anti-convulsants in her body and most likely the hair loss was from abuse;  either the result of stress from her treatment or actually being pulled up by the hair on her head.  From the way she looked, I feel both happened.  For sure, they were giving her medication for hyperactivity that was forbidden and they were not giving her seizure medication properly or keeping up with the levels through blood tests.  This led to the seizure.   Lack of supervision allowed her to seize for hours causing prolonged status epilepticus which leads to brain cell loss and decreased oxygen in the body as the temperature rises.  Her little brain and body couldn't withstand the assaults and responded with a stroke on the left side of her brain affecting the right side of her body.  Now go back and read the last sentences in the post before this note.

What satan meant as evil....God used it to His glory.  Lynda has eternal life with God while satan will soon be banished to darkness and eternal damnation.  Now that just makes me want to shout!  So glad God has already told us how the story ends!

Lynda's Contribution to Our Garage Sale

If you were at Lynda's funeral you heard me tell the story about John and Carol Ann Alderman and Larry and me having a garage sale in our backyard.  It was fenced and we put a table for paying right inside the gate on the sidewalk.  Just a few feet from where we were sitting was Lynda's room.  It had one window that we had built at the height that Lynda could sit on her blue mailbox and play with her toys on the window sill.  If she stood to play, she was about the same height.  The window was plexiglass instead of glass.  Lynda could play there for hours.

If you've ever had a garage sale, you know that it takes many eyes to be sure you can help the customers, watch to make sure you are selling more than is being lifted for free, and keep an eye on the money box.  All seemed to be going well until John slipped over and said quietly, "Ah, Kathy I'm going to stand in front of Lynda's window because she's taken her clothes off and has her body pressed against the window".  And he wasn't kidding.  Lynda who never saw any need for clothes had chosen the time our backyard was full of people to display her birthday suit for viewing up close and very personal. John stood nonchalantly while I went in and put Lynda's clothes back on.  Since he was the director of the Scott Center and had known Lynda since she was little, this was not a new situation for him.

Lynda lived in Lynda's world.  She was a "forever child" who functioned very much like a year old child except in the area of motor skills where she excelled.  Even after the stroke, Lynda could put her legs around her neck which was one of her favorite ways to sit and play.  Clothes?  They were of no value to her because she didn't have any of the social consciousness that teaches us that clothes are necessary in public (especially garage sales).  Now be honest.  How many of us wear clothes because they feel so much more comfortable than the birthday suit we were given when we arrived here?  My point exactly.  We wear them because we have been conditioned to know that clothes are necessary and expected and we are embarrassed if someone sees us in compromising situations without proper clothing.  Not Lynda.  She only knew that clothes went on her body and she could take them off.  Problem solved (for Lynda..but not for us).

When I need a smile, I think of Lynda standing at her window with her body pressed tightly against the plexiglass window.  Her nose and mouth were smushed and so was everything else that protruded from her body.  It really was funny.  We just didn't feel that we should share the humor with anyone else there for the garage sale!  But I have the visual like it was yesterday and it makes me smile every time I think about it.

The Story of the Magnolia Tree

Lynda went to live at the North Mississippi Regional Center (NMRC) in Oxford, Mississippi on May 29, 1992.  She had been on the waiting list for many years so that when she aged out of the public school system, we could begin the transition.  Lynda was able to attend school until she was almost 22 because of having a September birthday so at the end of her 21st year, she continued to attend Scott Center during the day for school and then rode the bus to NMRC.  This made the transition easier for all of us but it still wasn't like having Lynda at home every night.

A few days after she went to NMRC, I was walking outside in the yard thinking about Lynda.  I walked around to where "Lynda's window" looked out on the backyard.  Larry's mom had passed away in 1990 and we had been given a little magnolia tree to plant in her memory.  Larry and I decided to plant it outside of Lynda's room so as she stood playing by the window she could watch it grow.  Now the tree was two years old and had never had a single bloom.  As I rounded the corner I saw it.  One big, white blossom on Lynda's tree!  It had never bloomed before AND it never had another blossom during the next ten years we lived there.

God uses children who cannot even speak to teach powerful lessons.  He used a simple magnolia blossom to bring peace to my soul.  I knew immediately what that blossom meant and I thank God that He is never too busy to calm our fears and quiet our hearts.

I don't live at that house anymore.  I don't know if the magnolia tree is still there or not.  It doesn't matter because I don't need a sign that she's okay.  All I have to know is that she's with Jesus and she's not just okay...she's perfect in every way!

After writing this, we went to NMRC to pick up Lynda's things and as we crossed the bridge onto campus I just happened to glance over to the right.  There in a grove of trees at a distance stood a giant magnolia tree.  On the magnolia tree there was one beautiful blossom.  I said to Russ, "You're not going to believe this but there's a magnolia tree and it just had one blossom on it, too."  So we stopped and took a picture and said a prayer of thanks to the God who uses everyday things to show His extraordinary presence in our lives.

Up, Up, and Away

If you are an experienced observer of what makes children do the things they do...you will be able to see "what's wrong with this picture" right away.  Obviously prior to this incident, it had not crossed my mind but Lynda noticed immediately.

So let me set the scene for you.  Lynda is nine years old.  We were living in Batesville and Kevin was just about a year old.  The cute blond is dressed in a cute pink jumpsuit made by her Grandmother Anderson (Nana-Hot) and if you could see more closely you would most likely see a big safety pin through the zipper and covered in duct tape to prevent, no slow down her pulling on the neck and popping the zipper out.  She is actually still wearing her sandals and usually she played out in the yard with her "things" until she got tired or thirsty and came to the back door and knocked.  It was pretty awesome that we had "graduated" to this level of independence. She didn't put dirt or grass in her mouth (usually) and most of the time she came in looking pretty much like she did when she went out.  Still, I didn't take my eyes off of her very often and these pictures were made looking out the den window. 

So in the first picture what do you see?  Well, first there is a rose bush that I hadn't planted but we had pulled away from the fence so she didn't try to play with it through the fence.  But the biggie is the blue wading pool that had been in the backyard and I just threw over the side before she went out to the yard to play.  Now you would think that after parenting Lynda for about four years or so by now I'd have realized what a temptation that was going to be but in my defense I did have a one year old son I was nursing so it wasn't like I had a lot of spare time on my hands to run through all of the possible scenarios.  LOL  This WAS a no brainer though.  There is water.  There is Lynda.  So I went out and moved the wading pool.  Problem solved.  Nope.  Lynda had learned how to scale the chain linked fence and challenges were always fun.  She had tremendous upper body strength.  Heck, she had tremendous strength period so hoisting herself over a chain link fence was a piece of cake (another one of Lynda's favorite things).

Life was never the same after that day.  We did finally get her attention focused back on the inside of the fence instead of the greener grass beyond her fence but it took a while.  That lesson from Lynda taught me something I've used ever since and helped me as I worked on becoming a behavior analyst in recent years.  I can look at a scene now and quickly see the opportunities for my agenda to be overridden by my students (especially those on the autism spectrum).  Understand though this never gave me the advantage to get ahead of Lynda. When I got close... she just changed the rules.

The Versatile Blue Mail Box

This was Christmas 1975, our first Christmas with Lynda.  She was four years old and had been with us since January 22nd.  In that year, she had gained weight, gotten her immunizations that she'd never had as a baby and as you can see in this picture become a happy little girl.  Never in a million years would we have guessed that this plastic mailbox with the blue bottom and red top would be so versatile and loved by Lynda.  Obviously, it was great for getting into.  That was the first thing she used it for.  Then it was equally fun to put other things into and then pour them out and do it again.

 Lynda, her blue box when she was seven and her favorite guy...Billy Reynolds who was my dear friend and Lynda's teacher at OCDC, Jan Reynold's son. He babysat for Lynda which was not a job to be taken lightly and we rarely had babysitters due to Lynda's seizures.  I imagine he was saying all of her "words" to her and she was repeating them back and vice versa.  This was right before Kevin was born in September, 1979.  Billy Reynolds is now a full-bird colonel in the USAF.


Soon she learned that it could be turned upside down and used as a chair and it was this function that she used for years to come.  At some point, several years later we decided to get a second one and see what she would do with two of them.  She did the same thing with two as she had done with one.  If she was sitting on one, she turned the other one over to match.  If she was inside one or putting toys into one, she would put toys into the other.  This was one of her all time favorite toys through the years.  The picture here is when she was about eight and a half years old when Kevin was about six months old. You can tell by the swinging hair that she had been rocking the box back and forth and having major fun.  The red tops to the mailboxes were not useful to Lynda.  They were always over in the corner somewhere but the blue boxes...always a new adventure waiting to happen.

Pure Bliss---Swinging All By Yourself

Lynda is swinging by herself.  She has learned to hold on to the chains with her hands.  She has learned how to pump the swing with her legs and feet.  She could do it for a long time.  You can see bliss written on her face.  Eyes are closed.  She is savoring the way the wind hits her face.

To look at Lynda in the picture, she looks like any other little girl on a swing.  No one would know just by looking at the picture how long it had taken her to learn to swing all by herself.  She was nine years old in this picture.  During the summer prior to this picture she had been physically abused by the teaching assistant at the child development center in Batesville, Mississippi.  The assistant had bitten her on her shoulders and arms.  Her teacher had not stopped the abuse and in fact had actually tied Lynda in a chair the day that I had invited the school board to tour the center (and the staff knew they were coming).  The director had his own problems in this whole mess.  At the end of it all, the director resigned, the teacher was moved and the teaching assistant was fired. We had been forced to involve the Children's Defense Fund and Rims Barbour to finally get the abuse stopped and the center restaffed.  Although Lynda looks perfectly happy in this picture (she was) she had become equally as aggressive as her abusers.  She now bit her little brother who was just two.  She pushed him down and she exhibited all of the behaviors that one would expect an abused child to have.  Keep in mind also this was not Lynda's first experience with abuse.  She had been abused by her biological family before she came to live with us.  So in her short life by age nine, Lynda had been physically abused on multiple times by two different groups of people.  We were absolutely heartsick.

This is the picture that I look at and see years of hard work on all of the teachers, occupational therapists, her parents, our friends and see Lynda's potential.  She had a perfect little body.  So strong and beautiful.  She had worked over and over to learn to swing all by herself.  After the abuse in Batesville she could still swing.  She could still ride her tricycle.  We had a new staff at Batesville.  Lynda's teacher from the Oxford Child Development Center became the director of the Batesville Child Development Center and I went to OCDC to teach the multiple disabilities classroom that was left open by the teacher's move to Batesville.

I wish I could tell you that this was the last time that Lynda was abused.  I wish I could tell you that we all lived happily ever after but I can't.  Neither can I tell you right now about the third incident of abuse that led to Lynda's stroke and took away her ability to swing.  For right now, I just look at this picture and see a happy little girl swinging and I hold this image in my mind.