Today is not a typical day for us. My son went camping today. He is 26. He is a fully grown man, not a child. Yet, I was reminded of the first time he ever went camping, and all the feelings I had that day.
A little background. I adopted Michael when he was ten years old, from Kazakhstan. I already had adopted a little girl from Russia, and she needed a sibling, so I searched and searched on adoption agency websites until I found this little guy:
I wanted a special needs child. Michael is an amputee. His right hand was amputated when he was 5 years old, due to frostbite. His early life was filled with abuse, neglect, and violence. He was sent to the orphanage at age 8. The ladies there got to know what a smart, funny, kind little guy he was [and still is] and decided to help him find an American family. They knew in Kazakhstan he would have little chance at a normal life because no employer would hire him. So they reached out to an adoption agency and he was listed as adoptable and I saw the photo at left and knew he was my son.
When I went to Kazakhstan to meet him I had a unique advantage. A nonprofit, the Antares Foundation, worked in the area and I got to know two of the ladies who head up that organization and they got photos and information to me before I traveled.
Once I got to Kazakhstan and met him, I knew my instincts were right, and this little guy was my son. He is very smart. He is very loving. He was a leader among the kids. He had friends there. The caretakers truly cared about him. When I got him home in May of 2007 he cried several times, missing his friends. I couldn't do anything to comfort him, but he adjusted quickly. It helped that his older sister still spoke Russian and was able to translate for him.
I naively assumed there would be many things he couldn't do because he is an amputee. I was wrong. Over and over, he proved to me that having one hand was only an inconvenience, not a disability. He played soccer, tennis, and baseball. He loved games of all kinds, and sports. He was making jokes in English before he had been here six months.
In 2008, I was able to get him a prosthetic and we got to know the wonderful people in the Limb Difference Clinic at Children's Hospital. His physical therapist told him about the wonderful Adventure Amputee Camp that happens every summer. I registered Michael for camp and he was pleased about it. Kids with limb differences of all kinds get to have the same camp experience as non-disabled kids, and it's a wonderful place staffed by physical therapists, occupational therapists, and prosthetists -- in other words, adults not freaked out by being around a child missing a limb. The kids get to do all kinds of things, from hiking, water skiing, whitewater rafting, horseback riding, etc. I was sure Michael would have a blast.
The day came for him to go to camp. I woke him up and got his bag packed and we drove over to the hospital parking lot. There was a really nice bus, a top-of-the-line luxurious bus, not some crappy old school bus. We got out of the car and he saw Miss Colleen, his beloved Occupational Therapist. He saw the other kids. He decided he was NOT going to camp and I wasn't going to make him! He was showing me that he had bonded with me and the separation anxiety was getting the better of him. Now, that was very atypical behavior. We had very few discipline issues with him. He was a happy little guy, most of the time. I realized though that this wasn't about anything but separation anxiety. I sternly told him that he WAS going to camp. He WAS going to get on the bus. Period. No arguing. I was bigger and stronger and he knew I wasn't kidding.
Of course, he stomped on the bus, madder than dammit, and I got in the car and cried, wondering if I had made a huge mistake. I actually called Colleen later and she said "Dee he is FINE. He's made new friends. He's having a great time! Don't worry!" [below, Michael with Colleen and Brian, at Children's]
That did my heart good!
Five days after putting him on the bus to camp I was back in the hospital parking lot, anxiously watching for the bus, and when it got there I wondered if he would still be mad at me.
Nope.
Michael was the first one off the bus. Huge smile on his face. He was waving around a tennis racquet he had won in the camp tennis tournament. He had never shown any interest in tennis before but it became a game he loved to play and he was quite good at it, even playing on winning ALTA teams in his teenage years.
He gave me a big hug and was bubbling over with excitement about his time in camp. His biggest joy was in being around other limb difference kids, and feeling like a regular kid, for once in his life. He went back every summer for several years, and always had fun.
His teenage years and the early 20's were very difficult for us both, to be honest. He had no interest in school and got into some trouble, due to substance abuse issues. He is now fully sober and working hard to live a healthy, authentic life. Most importantly, he is able to face adult challenges with courage and grace.
This weekend the Catalyst Sports group is in Alabama, for an outdoor climbing/camping weekend. It's a terrific group that helps disabled kids and adults participate in sports they normally wouldn't be able to do like climbing and kayaking. Michael loves climbing and he has climbed Stone Mountain countless times, but this will be his first real climbing adventure involving climbing as a sport. He has been going indoor climbing weekly for months, and really enjoys the challenge.
As I watched him put his gear in his backpack, and we joked about his "road trip," I was reminded of that scared little 11 year old guy who didn't want to get on the bus. Now he is a fit, healthy, confident 26 year old man who is a delight. He is not disabled. He works as a cook in an upscale local restaurant. I wrote about him recently and you can read that and see video of him here.
left, me and Michael in Kazakhstan in 2007
right, Michael today
