Fast Forward to Present Day
We have had many challenges and traumatic experiences during Josiah's early years. He was hospitalized something like 18 times during his first 3 years. I'll go into some of that in later posts. For now, I thought it would be fun to bring you up to a more present day version of Josiah. That was life with him then. This is life with him now...
Bang. The sound of a door slamming shut awakens me from a dreamy mid-afternoon nap. Slowly I force myself out of bed. A quick glance out the window to the driveway confirms that my husband’s car is gone. No ones home. Obviously Rick must have left and taken the kids with him on an errand. One of the children must have run out the door in a hurry to join dad which would explain the loud bang. Hmmm….both locks on the back door are locked tight. We rarely use the front door, but just in case, I'd better check. Yep….unlocked.
Now I am fully awake. I grab for my phone and dash out the front door as I hurriedly dial my husband’s number. “Honey, do you have Josiah with you?” Josiah is our 9 year old son who has disabilities and lately has taken to exploring the neighborhood unescorted. “No. I left him home with you. He was lying beside you when I left.” “How long ago was that?” I ask. The door banged no less than 5 minutes earlier which assures me Rick hadn’t been gone for long. “I left 40 minutes ago” he replied. Instantly, panic sets in.
Now, I am running, unsure of which direction to go. Our house is on the corner and there are 3 possible directions I could take. I notice a pick-up truck driving slowly about 8 houses down so I head in that direction. Sure enough, a kind woman is watching my son from her truck window as he darts barefoot across the street, dragging a white sock. He zips up the sidewalk of a neighbor’s home. I slow my sprint to a casual jog and call his name in a sing song voice, trying to act nonchalant as if this is what every loving mother does on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. Nothing more than enjoying a fun little game of chase with my precocious son. I don’t fool anyone. By the time I get to him, Josiah is tugging and pushing on the door, trying to get into the home of a total stranger.
The woman slowly turns her truck around to watch the show. Thankfully the door he is trying so desperately to open is locked. My mind instantly wanders. I think of what might have happened had the door been unlocked and my son had gotten inside. I may never have found him. What would he have done in that house? Would he have known how to get out? Would he have known how to get home? Would he have known how to get help if he needed it?
Josiah is non-verbal. He was not wearing any sort of identification. I shudder to think of the possibilities. I brush the thoughts aside, take Josiah’s hand and shake my head in an effort to convey to the truck woman that he is such a silly little guy. We start the walk back home. The compassionate stranger stops me to ask if he is my son. She mentions that he had just been at the front door of another neighbor’s house. Oh my goodness. How many houses did he try to break into? What were his intentions?
I’ve heard stories of other children that elope. Eloping is the term used to describe the behavior some children have of unauthorized departure. I remember hearing of a child who found his way into a neighbor’s house, crawled up on the couch and snuggled the sleeping owner. The woman awoke to find a strange child wrapped in her arms. Sweet, but scary none the less. I am so thankful Josiah is by my side. As the truck woman and I chat for a moment, Josiah hurls the white sock he had been dragging down the street into her open window. It zings right past her face, smacks the other window and falls on her truck seat. One thing I learned early on about having a child with disabilities…you have to have a sense of humor.
Fortunately all was ok. We made is through this little hiccup. Now, I am making plans to host a neighborhood block party. ALL our neighbors need to meet Josiah. Should they ever awake to find him snuggling in their arms or walking through their living room dragging a sock, they will need to know where to return him.
Now I am fully awake. I grab for my phone and dash out the front door as I hurriedly dial my husband’s number. “Honey, do you have Josiah with you?” Josiah is our 9 year old son who has disabilities and lately has taken to exploring the neighborhood unescorted. “No. I left him home with you. He was lying beside you when I left.” “How long ago was that?” I ask. The door banged no less than 5 minutes earlier which assures me Rick hadn’t been gone for long. “I left 40 minutes ago” he replied. Instantly, panic sets in.
Now, I am running, unsure of which direction to go. Our house is on the corner and there are 3 possible directions I could take. I notice a pick-up truck driving slowly about 8 houses down so I head in that direction. Sure enough, a kind woman is watching my son from her truck window as he darts barefoot across the street, dragging a white sock. He zips up the sidewalk of a neighbor’s home. I slow my sprint to a casual jog and call his name in a sing song voice, trying to act nonchalant as if this is what every loving mother does on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. Nothing more than enjoying a fun little game of chase with my precocious son. I don’t fool anyone. By the time I get to him, Josiah is tugging and pushing on the door, trying to get into the home of a total stranger.
The woman slowly turns her truck around to watch the show. Thankfully the door he is trying so desperately to open is locked. My mind instantly wanders. I think of what might have happened had the door been unlocked and my son had gotten inside. I may never have found him. What would he have done in that house? Would he have known how to get out? Would he have known how to get home? Would he have known how to get help if he needed it?
Josiah is non-verbal. He was not wearing any sort of identification. I shudder to think of the possibilities. I brush the thoughts aside, take Josiah’s hand and shake my head in an effort to convey to the truck woman that he is such a silly little guy. We start the walk back home. The compassionate stranger stops me to ask if he is my son. She mentions that he had just been at the front door of another neighbor’s house. Oh my goodness. How many houses did he try to break into? What were his intentions?
I’ve heard stories of other children that elope. Eloping is the term used to describe the behavior some children have of unauthorized departure. I remember hearing of a child who found his way into a neighbor’s house, crawled up on the couch and snuggled the sleeping owner. The woman awoke to find a strange child wrapped in her arms. Sweet, but scary none the less. I am so thankful Josiah is by my side. As the truck woman and I chat for a moment, Josiah hurls the white sock he had been dragging down the street into her open window. It zings right past her face, smacks the other window and falls on her truck seat. One thing I learned early on about having a child with disabilities…you have to have a sense of humor.
Fortunately all was ok. We made is through this little hiccup. Now, I am making plans to host a neighborhood block party. ALL our neighbors need to meet Josiah. Should they ever awake to find him snuggling in their arms or walking through their living room dragging a sock, they will need to know where to return him.
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1 comments
Sounds like something my little girl would do! Great story & I laughed all the way through, just because I understand!
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