Problem Solved?

As I now attack the rest of my life that does not deal with my 12-year-old son Chris, my best friend said that having Chris living at the children's facility solved my problem on how to survive that part of my life. Well, I understand the comment, which is partially true, but it is an impossible situation and will remain an insolvable problem forever. I don't like it, and I never will, but it is mostly working.

For the first time since Chris moved to the facility, I brought him home for an entire day. I had been fearful of doing this on an emotional level. How would I feel bringing him back? Well, Chris slept all day. I mean he literally slept seven out of the nine hours I had him home. I believe he needed some respite from the routine and noise of the facility, and I will begin to bring him home more. This is tough on many levels. The poor kid is doing well but obviously needs some down time from a relentless schedule due to institutionalization. Bummer...

Earlier this week, the facility had an outing. They took four kids and four adults (what the bus holds) to a local amusement park. I was not invited and my son did not need my permission to go. The staff at the facility have become his surrogate family, and they are going to pretty great lengths to make my son happy. But, oh, how hard it is to think of my son with a surrogate family! I'm pleased he's being treated well, but his care is largely out of my control. What kind of parent am I? I know I am not that kind of parent, but what does this make me?

Is the problem solved? No, but with typical children, new problems are always replacing resolved problems. Why would this be any different? There will never ever be a good solution to how to care for our disabled children. Every choice is hard. Every outcome has its good and bad components. And my son is doing alright, maybe even pretty well. We'll keep trying because that's all we can really do.