You would not believe the number of times the voices in my head repeat the words of his social worker Beth Q, when the plans were in the works for his suite and consequential semi-independence. "It's his home and if he chooses to paper the walls with Disney posters and live with waist deep laundry, and have cats ruling the roost and eat hot dogs 6 days a week, so be it. He's an adult. It's his home." Looking back, it's like she was freakishly prophetic. And the concept is right. However...
I don't think she was thinking about Christmas.
He is so proud of his Christmas decorations. I have pictures of the exterior display of artistry.
|At least the lights aren't blinking. (Mother always taught me to say something positive)|
|I'm not sure which Life Skills Worker took him shopping last year to purchase this metallic blue wreath, but may their Christmas be merry.|
Let's get a closer look:
|Metallic blue wreath. Red bow. Plastic candies. Scraps of red and gold garland.|
Okay, I don't have pictures but let me describe his tree: It's in the middle of his very small living room - you have to sit tall to see the tv beyond it. It stands about 5 feet tall. The decorations are all in the upper 3 feet because the cat truly does rule the roost. The decorations consist of multicolored lights, soft pink & purple glass balls (from Kerri's tree she left behind a few years ago. And now that she is back in Canada, Jed asked me the other day if she is gonna want her decorations back. We can only hope.) His ornaments range from a wooden cross to santa to the donkey from Shrek to retail tags from his mittens that have a snowflake on them. And once again, "So be it. He's an adult. It's his home," rings through my mind.