Some things will never be normal the way the magazines define it; having a son with classic autism guarantees that conclusion. It can feel like an indefensible position on the battlefield of life and that is another story, entirely. But on this weekend of March 7,8 & 9, I would learn that some things would be better than normal; superior, in fact. This was the weekend of Vermont's Special Olympics Winter Games in Woodstock VT. It was our first year of participation and I attended with an open mind and none too high expectations. I just wanted to enjoy a weekend of sunshine, good snow, and a comfortable hotel room. Graham loves to ski, he's pretty good and this was a chance for him to revel in that. I invited his behavior instructor, Jenn, to come along and keep him on task, and keep up with his energy where I would lag behind. I could not have enjoyed this adventure as a leisurely spectator without her exceptional support for his task management needs.
Jenn, Graham and coach
We began with Unified-Snowshoeing on Friday with his school team and learned in a hurry what unfamiliar tasks he would struggle with, like refusing to wear the number bib over his neck, so the special olympics staff found safety pins to place it on his back. He didn't really understand the lanes to race/run in with snow shoes...but his coach was patient and supportive...There was no wrong way, or bad job; there was flexibility and support and innovation to help him at least complete the task.
We came this year, to learn what would take some practice and preteaching for some fluency in his joining in future events. And all around us people strived, attempted and participated with earnest efforts because it was all about them; their time to shine in their light. Some folks were obviously competitive and some were just enjoying the glorious weekend weather in the midst of a cold and suffering winter.
That Friday night had a parade and opening ceremony on the Woodstock town green where delegates marched in with banners and flags and team jackets to the whoops and whistles of dedicated fans. It was their height of awesomeness as all eyes were on them and everyone cared deeply for the challenge ahead. Alpine, Snowboarding, Nordic and Snowshoeing would test the fortitude of athletes in the days ahead. For them it was serious and joyful and important. For some it would be the highlight of the year, others a grand day out and for all of us, it was a community snow globe that was magical to all who were included in the event.
This was a place where tradition met valor and 'different' was the new normal. Like no other sporting event I’ve been in or at, these delegates hugged, laughed and rallied for each other while families and fans went hoarse with cheering for each and every contestant, no matter their team. Ribbons and medals were won, but the best take-away was to be surrounded by families, fans, coaches and volunteers who celebrated the joy of being there. In this place nobody pointed in disbelief, nobody spoke in cruel tones; in this place we were the normal people living large, for a weekend anyway. Graham 'raced' in alpine slalom on Saturday and Sunday, and with the help of his coach, he medaled in 2 events. But really it was all in good fun.
In this rarefied air, in this winter wonderland of differently-abled Vermonters and their families I was overcome with an epiphany. Some people in our circles, many people in fact, want to feel sad that my Graham is not 'normal'. They want to frown and shake their heads in morose for me and the rest of his family. They want to judge him, and his family as broken, burdensome. But they are blinded by their own expectations of what goodness looks like. Through Graham's lens of his world, I have lived joy, wonder, magic and an un-apologetic view from the moment he is in. I came away from this weekend with a wiser, well fed soul. I have come to deeply appreciate his world, and often prefer it to ours. He has taught me that its not about whether the cup is half empty or half full; its all about the quality of the water within it. Why i love my blue-eyed wonder boy, probably more, than
anyone else in the whole world?...because through his cloak of autism,
he does not judge me, ever....to him, i will always be enough.
to see the complete album of Graham's Special Olympics Adventure goto this link: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10201308772832586.1073741871.1570732991&type=1&l=d6e00439a7
I am grateful to Suicide Six for giving up their whole mountain and ski lodge to these olympics, to the Woodstock Inn for lodging all of us, the entire s.o. body of delegates, families and coaches in their 5star accommodations with luxurious service from curb to bedstand for the whole weekend. For Team Smuggs for being the most fun, happy and stylish team on the slopes.
The way a herd moves, assembles, ebbs and flows, relates to its members, is a work of social art among horses. When I watch the horses here, only five of them now, I am a distant being, like a bird in a tree just watching and listening to their equine community. This particular group has been together since 2005 and six, they are so familiar to each other and dependant, the way horses are, upon the movements and affect of one another. The comfort and alarm by each other and correct or errant behavior. All shared with the slightest gesture in posture or gaze. It's marvellous to observe and i feel like a tiny outsider until they spot me. Then they will come up to me, seeking food or maybe just some touch, some reassurance that i will care for them. Horses are followers, even the most strident alpha seeks a leader and will follow a person through the most unnatural applications of their strength and power as long as one is clear, consistent and fair in the asking. They are 'feelers', always judging the content of our character and responding accordingly. For all of my life, they have captivated my imagination, curiosity and awe. That a full grown horse would allow me to mount and ride or drive and make course mistakes with their sensitive natures always leaves me amazed and humble as i grow older in years, increasingly aware of that trust and responsibility to them. For most of these horses, they are 'rescues' from the high stress industry of horse racing. They came here because their owners wanted to send them some place safe and know they would have a chance at a 'good' life. We used to retrain them and seek out forever homes where they would be the center of someone's universe...These last several years, I stopped actively seeking such homes; few and far between, they were sometimes honored, but often used and then forgotten like a novelty toy. Not always the case, but it happened enough times that I have largely given up on people that are transient with horses. So here they stay, on eleven acres of lousy soils, nasty hollows and deficient grazing; but they are largely free to do as they please as long as they honor the fences, the thin crinkled electric wire that keeps them in. Yet they are so happy here; unaware of such rustic keeping, happy to chose who and where they will stroll with in this way. No to low stress for these slick coated horses who once performed peak athletic endevors despite their breaking hearts as they were deprived of herd living and dusty wallows to roll in. For this tight band of horses, knit together over the last eight years, this is home. I am wracked with guilt when I think of tearing it apart, sending one away; its actually easier to end their life here, to let them die among friends and be buried where they have been so happy. This is were their heart is. To laze away a day, and walk with these horses is the highest privilege i can enjoy as a horseman. I wish that others could live that dream-like way of being with horses.
